


To Be Alone (With You)

by the_communist_unicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blushing Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester is Loved, Fluff, Gardener Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Nerd Castiel (Supernatural), One Big Happy Family, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Openly Gay Dean Winchester, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Parental Bobby Singer, Parental Jody Mills, Past Aaron Bass/Dean Winchester, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Romance, Service Dogs, Sexually Inexperienced Dean Winchester, Supportive Sam Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_communist_unicorn/pseuds/the_communist_unicorn
Summary: Dean was happy. He really was. He had an awesome family, a job he loved, a house of his own. So what if he'd been single for more than two years? He didn't need a boyfriend to be happy ... Then he met Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Jody Mills/Bobby Singer
Comments: 95
Kudos: 307





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU, and the set up is a little confusing at first, so I'll just give you the rundown. Bobby and Jody are married and they are foster parents. They adopted Dean and Sam when Dean was fourteen and Sam was ten. Charlie is also one of their foster kids, and Dean and Sam consider her their little sister. The rest should become clear over the course of the story, but if you have any questions, leave me a comment. And if you need spoilers not included in the tags before you feel comfortable reading, you can find me on Facebook (Koby Kuznetz) or Tumblr (the-communist-unicorn).

“You’re gonna remember to pick me up at the airport, right? Cause getting a cab all the way back to Sioux Falls is gonna cost a fortune.”

“I said I’d pick you up, so I’m gonna pick you up,” Dean said a little waspishly. This was the fifth time Sam had reminded him, and the trip was only three days long. 

“Get your ass back in here, handmaiden! Your queen is about to become zombie chow!” a voice bellowed from the living room. 

“Hold your damn horses, Bradbury!” Dean yelled back, not bothering to cover the phone. 

Several thousand miles away, Sam winced. “Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like you’ve been lonely this weekend.” 

“Dude, she won’t friggin leave. She’s eating us out of house and home.” Dean couldn’t quite manage to sound genuinely annoyed. It had actually been his idea for Sam to spend the weekend with his fiancee who was finishing her last semester of med school at Stanford, but even though he knew how much Sam needed this, he’d been dreading three days of an empty house. He didn’t handle alone time well. He either slipped into a funk or did something incredibly stupid and impulsive to break up the monotony. Fortunately Charlie Bradbury had taken it upon herself to be his babysitter and asked nothing in return but the chance to beat the high score on every video game he owned. (Most of those scores were hers to begin with.)

“Maybe _she_ should move in with you after the wedding,” Sam said, only half joking. 

Dean grimaced. Not at the thought of Charlie moving in permanently. He would have married that girl long ago if they weren’t both gay. No, it was the thought of his baby brother getting married that tied his stomach in knots. He was happy for Sam. He really was. God, sometimes he was so happy he couldn’t breathe. But … everything was going to change, and Dean hated change. There had been far too much of it in his life. It seemed like as soon as he settled in and got used to things being a certain way, something came along and yanked the rug out from under him. These last couple years, sharing this house with Sam, had been the happiest he could remember ( _really_ remember, not dimly, half dream remember), and a selfish part of him never wanted it to end. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Sam that. After everything he’d been through, the kid deserved a life of his own, a happy life. It wasn’t his job to take care of his clingy, needy mess of a big brother. Dean’s problems were Dean’s problems. 

“Already asked her,” he said. “She’s planning on moving in with Jo when her lease is up next month. Sounds like they’re getting pretty serious.” 

“Really?” Sam said speculatively. “Think there might be another wedding in the future?” 

“Maybe. If they don’t just elope to Vegas to escape their respective mothers. Can you imagine Ellen and Jodi planning a wedding together?” 

“All too easily. God, there might be no survivors. Oh, speaking of wedding planning, do you want a plus one?” 

“No. Who would I bring? Everyone I know is already invited.” 

“Well, maybe if you met someone between now and the wed—” 

“Sam, stop right there.” 

“Dean, I’m just trying to —”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m asking nicely. Please don’t.” 

Sam sighed. “Okay, okay. Just … Don’t you think he would want you to be happy?”  
  
Dean closed his eyes and counted to ten, reminding himself that his brother didn’t mean the words to be hurtful. He just didn’t understand. “I _am_ happy, Sam. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy. Now either you change the subject or I’m hanging up.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. Then Sam said, “You could always advertise on Craigslist or something. For a roommate I mean.” 

Dean untensed somewhat. “Dude, are you crazy? I could get an ax murderer.” 

“Obviously you’d do a background check before you actually let them move in with you, genius. It wouldn’t be that hard. Your mother is the sheriff for Christ’s sake.” 

“Yeah, but still. Me living with a stranger?” 

“Fair point,” Sam conceded at the same time as Charlie yelled, “I need backup, Winchester! Asap!” 

“Okay, I gotta go save her majesty from the zombie hoards. I’ll see you tomorrow. Give Jess a hug from me.” 

“Will do. My flight gets in at nine. Don’t —”

“Jesus Christ, I won’t forget!” 

~o0o~

Dean would be the first to admit that he was easily distracted. He’d read half a book, then start a different one, and another and another until his bedside table was a paper avalanche waiting to happen. He wasn’t exactly a bad cook, but he managed to set off the smoke alarm at least once a week. And Bobby had officially banned him from doing paperwork because of the amount of time it took to find and refile everything when he was done. 

So yeah, he was aware that it was one of his flaws, and no one gave him more shit about it than he did himself, but this once he felt he could be forgiven because the man in front of him was very, very distracting. 

Crystal blue eyes that seemed to see straight into Dean’s soul. Messy black hair that was just long enough for someone (e.g. Dean) to tangle their fingers in and pull ever so gently. And his _voice_. Dear God, if it was that deep when he was just talking, what did it sound like when he was turned on? Dean desperately wanted to find out. 

The man’s forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown, and Dean realized he’d been staring for a good ten seconds. “Sorry. Um. What did you say?” 

“My car. Is it ready?”  
  
“Oh. Right. What’s the name?” 

“Novak with a k.” 

Dean typed it into Bobby’s dinosaur of a computer and waited while the machine grudgingly searched its memory. “Pretty dog,” he said, nodding at the black Labrador sitting patiently by the man’s feet. Its eyes were the exact same color as its master’s. “Is he friendly?” 

“She, and yes, Grace likes most people.”

Dean held out his hand. The dog sniffed it, gave it an approving lick, and allowed him to scratch behind her floppy ears. “Who’s a good girl?” Dean asked rhetorically which earned him a big, tongue lolling doggy grin from Grace and a small smile from Mr. Novak. Dean wasn’t sure which one was more adorable. (No, that was a lie. It was definitely the human.)

The computer, with such perversely bad timing that it could only be deliberate in Dean’s opinion, chimed cheerfully to let him know it had the requested information. A blue 2013 Prius belonging to one Castiel Novak was sitting in the finished lot out back. 

“Yep. You’re good to go.” He found the right key on the row of hooks behind the desk and handed it over, enjoying the brief brush of warm fingers against his. Hard, smooth callouses indicated that Mr. Novak worked with those hands. There was dirt under his nails too, and even in the dim, windowless office Dean could see that the man’s skin was beautifully tanned. Outdoor work then, in the hot sun, sweaty and possibly shirtless …

The man gave him another puzzled frown (which was just as adorable as his smile if not more so) and said, “Don’t I need to pay you?” 

“Oh. Right.” Good thing Bobby wasn’t here at the moment or Dean would be getting the glare of the century. He checked with the computer again and gave Mr. Novak a number. 

“Is a check all right?” 

Normally the answer was no. Bobby only took checks from long time customers who he knew personally. But Dean found himself saying, “Sure. Whatever you want.” 

The man bent over the desk to write, and oh God, he smelled as good as he looked. Like a garden, but not in a girly, flowery way. He smelled like fresh earth right after it had rained. Dean leaned back in his chair, putting a couple more inches between him and the man before he could start drooling. The dog nuzzled his hand, seeking more ear scratches, and Dean obliged, thinking, _Lucky mutt. You probably get to sleep in his bed._

Mr. Novak signed the check and handed it over. It was written in elegant, curling script, every letter perfectly legible. _Figures his handwriting would be as perfect as the rest of him._ Dean slid it into the desk drawer. He would probably catch some shit from Bobby for this, but as long as the check didn’t bounce, he’d be forgiven pretty quickly. 

He told Mr. Novak where to find his car and watched regretfully as the man walked out of his life. At least the back view was almost as gorgeous as the front. Dean already missed those piercing eyes, but he was compensated with well muscled shoulders and a very nice ass that filled out those faded, grass stained jeans perfectly. 

The man’s exit was delayed by Grace who had taken a liking to Dean's ear scratches and was reluctant to follow her master. In the two extra seconds it took to get the dog moving, Dean had three thoughts. 

_1\. There’s no harm in just asking._   
_2\. You don’t even know if he’s gay._   
_3\. Well, there’s one sure way to find out._

“Willyougooutwithme?” 

Mr. Novak turned around in the doorway, his mouth forming an o of surprise that gave Dean some very specific ideas regarding what he would like to do to that mouth. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“Will you go out with me?” Dean repeated slower and less garbled, but he felt a flush creeping into his cheeks, and he was wishing he’d kept his own mouth shut, a familiar feeling. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have … That was unprofessional, and you’re —”

“Yes, I’d love to.” 

“— probably straight. Wait. What?” 

“I’d like to go out with you. And I’m not straight. Not even a little.” The other man was blushing too, and it made his eyes look even more intensely blue. “Tonight? I mean it doesn’t have to be. If you’re busy —”

“I’m not,” Dean said, all thoughts of airports and little brothers fleeing his mind in the face of that blue, blue gaze. “Is seven okay? There’s a little diner on Fourth Street called Pam’s that does really good burgers.” 

“Yes, I know it.” The man’s smile was a little wider this time, and Dean found it impossible to not smile back. “I’ll see you at seven then. I, um … I never got your name.” 

“Dean. Um, Winchester.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dean Winchester.” A shiver went down Dean’s spine at the sound of his name spoken in that gravelly voice. He wanted to hear that again … and again and again and … “I’m Castiel Novak, but most people call me Cas.” 

“What would you like _me_ to call you?” Dean couldn’t resist asking.  
  
Cas laughed, low and sultry, and yes, somehow his voice managed to get even deeper when he said, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of a few things between now and seven o’clock.” 


	2. Chapter 2

When Cas got to Pam’s, Dean was already there, sitting in a booth in the back corner, the most private spot in the restaurant. He waved Cas over with a smile, and Cas thought yet again that Dean Winchester might be the most beautiful human being on the planet. His smile just lit up his whole face, and those eyes …

 _Careful, Novak,_ he chided himself. _You haven’t even had your first date, and you’re already dangerously close to falling head over heels in love with the man. Have a little dignity, dammit._

When Dean saw Grace padding at Cas’s side strapped into her yellow vest with the words _Service Dog_ printed on it, Cas saw the question on the tip of the other man’s tongue, and then he saw Dean bite it back. 

“I’m not blind,” Cas said as he slid into the seat across from Dean. Grace crawled under the table and put her head on Dean’s knee by way of greeting. 

“I wasn’t gonna ask,” Dean said. He rubbed Grace’s neck gently, and Cas found himself feeling jealous of his own dog. 

“I know. That’s why I’m going to explain. I sustained an injury to my inner ear when I was a child. It doesn’t affect my hearing, but I get occasional bouts of vertigo and fainting spells. Grace is trained to catch me if I start to fall.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but the rest of it really wasn’t a first date conversation. 

Dean accepted the explanation with a nod and didn’t pry any deeper. 

At that moment Pam came over to take their order. “Usual for you, sugar?” she said to Cas. 

“Yes, please. And —”

“A raw patty for the dog. I know. You’re my favorite customer,” she said to Grace. “I could do your order in my sleep.”

The dog grinned up at her. Grace worshiped Pam, partly because Pam always smelled like food. 

“And what’ll it be for you, Deano?” 

“I’ll have a burger. Thanks, Pam.”  
  
“You got it.” 

So you’re a regular here,” Dean said when Pam left them alone again.

“I was about to say the same to you,” Cas chuckled. “How is it we’ve never been here at the same time?” 

“How do you know we haven’t?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed you.” 

Dean blushed and made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “I, uh … I actually don’t eat here very often, but Pam is an old friend. When I was growing up, she was kind of like a big sister to me.” 

“You’ve lived in Sioux Falls your whole life?” Cas asked, pleased with how easily the conversation was flowing. He’d been prepared to deal with some awkwardness after confessing his disability, but Dean genuinely didn’t seem bothered by it.

“No. We came here when I was fourteen. Before that we moved around a lot.” A shadow passed over Dean’s face, and he abruptly said, “What about you? You from around here?” 

“No. I grew up in Boston, but I left home at seventeen, and I’ve never been back. My family and I are not on speaking terms except for one brother who unfortunately lives in Europe. I don’t get to see him much.” 

“Oh.” There was a brief, slightly awkward silence, but Cas would have sworn the other man looked grateful. Cas had allowed the conversation to turn away from Dean’s past and simultaneously hinted that he had secrets of his own and would probably understand when Dean felt ready to open up. “Was the gay thing a problem for them?” Dean asked after a moment. 

“That was part of it, but I always knew they would take that badly. I told them before I left because I knew it would discourage them from looking for me. It wasn’t the reason I left.”

“Yeah, my dad wasn’t too happy about it either, but that was the least of our problems. As far as he was concerned, I’d never done anything right.” There was a slight edge of bitterness to Dean’s voice, but mostly he just sounded sad. 

Cas decided that it was time for a change of subject. “So you’re a mechanic.” 

Dean brightened up immediately. “Yeah, not the most glamorous job, I know, but I love it. An engine is like a puzzle. You can’t force it. You gotta be patient, and sometimes it’s really frustrating, but then there’s this moment when it all fits together, and everything just … works. It’s a great feeling.” 

“Sounds a lot like sex.” 

Dean choked on his water. He was still coughing when Pam returned with their food. “You okay, hon?” she said, patting him on the back. 

“Yeah,” he managed to rasp, shooting Cas a look.

Cas just smiled back innocently, thinking that flushed and breathless was a good look on Dean Winchester even if he wasn’t flushed and breathless for the right reasons.  
  
They let the conversation lapse for a moment while they tucked into their food. Cas was well aware that he had a habit of making vaguely sexual noises when he bit into a good burger, and Pam’s burgers were very good. Dean’s pupils dilated with what was unmistakably lust when Cas let a muffled moan escape his full mouth. Cas met the other man’s eyes, swallowed, and very deliberately licked the grease from his lips. 

“You really like burgers, huh?” Dean said, his voice still a little hoarse, though probably for other reasons now. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m a carnivore through and through. All kinds of meat.” 

Dean stared at him. The innuendo was obviously deliberate, and for a moment Cas was worried that it had come off as coarse or creepy. But then Dean put a fry in his mouth, his lips pursing around it in a very sensual manner, and said with his mouth still full, “Me too.” 

Cas was suddenly very tempted to break his firm no-sex-on-the-first-date rule. 

Grace finished her plate of raw ground beef and began eyeing the humans’ food covetously. Cas ignored her, but he also pretended not to notice Dean slipping her fries under the table. 

“So what do you do?” Dean asked when the burgers were gone and they could talk like civilized people again. 

“I own a gardening store,” Cas said, “and I raise honeybees.” He took a fry from Dean’s plate since his own were gone. He didn’t ask permission. 

Dean’s eyes followed the piece of potato all the way from the plate to Cas’s mouth. He didn’t complain. “Honeybees?” he said. 

“Mmm. Honeybees are essential to the ecosystem. If they go extinct, humans won’t be far behind. Plus, they’re just fascinating creatures. No one tells the bee which flowers to pollinate, and yet its path is anything but random. There’s an underlying structure to nature just like one of your engines, only far more complex. It’s beyond human comprehension, and yet the bee, whose brain is smaller than the tip of a baby’s pinky finger, understands it instinctively.” He noticed a slightly glazed look in Dean’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m boring you. I should have warned you that once you get me started on this subject, I can talk your ear off.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Dean started to say. “It’s—” And then he was interrupted by a tinny electric guitar riff coming from his pocket. He pulled out his phone, and his eyes widened when he saw the screen. Cas could see the name of the caller — Sammy. “Oh, crap,” Dean muttered under his breath. He answered the call, and instead of hello, he said, “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” 

Cas couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation apart from an indistinct male voice. “Yeah, I got … distracted,” Dean replied to whatever the man had said. “I can still get there. You don’t have to take a cab. I’ll be there in an hour. Just … go shop in the duty free. Buy something horrendously expensive, and I’ll pay you back for it.” 

Cas did his best to hide his disappointment. It didn’t sound like Dean was making this up, but obviously the evening wasn’t going to end with ill advised first date sex.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, addressing Cas this time as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I forgot that I promised to pick my brother up from the airport. I’m not making this up to ditch you, I swear.”

“It’s okay,” Cas reassured him. “I believe you. Can we pick this up another time? Because I was really enjoying your company.” 

Dean blushed. Cas loved how easy it was to make him do that. “Yeah, I’d like that. Here.” He grabbed a napkin, fished a pen out of his pocket, and wrote down a phone number. Then he slid the napkin across the table together with a fifty dollar bill. 

“Dean, that’s too much,” Cas protested. It would pay for both their meals and then some. He’d been planning to split the bill since he had no idea how much a mechanic made but he couldn’t imagine it was a lot. 

“Get dessert on me,” Dean said, already standing up. “And tell Pam to keep the change. You can pay next time.” He gave Grace a parting pat on the head, and then he was gone. 

Grace put her head in Cas’s lap and gazed up at him as if to say, _I’m not going anywhere._

“Well, at least I won’t be sleeping alone tonight,” he muttered, scratching her behind the ears the way she liked. He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or just more depressing. Grace was a wonderful companion and certainly more than just a pet. Sometimes it felt like she was a part of his soul. But he would much rather have Dean Winchester in his bed. Oh, well. Maybe next time. There had definitely been a spark. He hadn’t imagined that. 

He was transferring Dean’s number from the napkin to his own phone when Pam came back. “Did he ditch you?” she said with a thunderous expression when she saw Dean’s empty seat. “Oh, I’m going to kick his pretty little ass.” 

“That’s not necessary,” Cas assured her with a small smile. “He had a previous commitment that he had forgotten about. We’re going to reschedule, and” — he held up the fifty — “he paid.”

Pam’s expression softened. “Always a gentleman, our Dean. Can I get you anything else? Dessert special’s cherry pie.” 

“That sounds perfect. With ice cream?” 

“For you, sugar? Of course.” Pam started to turn away, but then she stopped and gave him a serious look. “Cas, maybe this is out of line, but I care about Dean a lot. He’s like a little brother to me, and I know he comes off all cocky and self assured, but underneath all that he’s really kind of fragile. And if you break him, you’ll have a lot of people to answer to. A lot of people in this town love Dean Winchester, and if you’re not planning to join the club, then you better get the fuck out of his life.”

Before he could do more than stare at her with his mouth open, she smiled sweetly and said, “Be right back with your pie.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Cas didn’t call the next day. Or the next. By Thursday Dean had officially turned into a teenage girl, checking his phone every ten minutes and mentally debating whether he could call Cas without coming off as needy and/or stalkerish. The only number he had was the number of Cas’s store, _East of Eden_ , which he had found via Google so that was a little stalkerish already.  
  
He definitely did _not_ spend hours staring at Cas’s picture on the store’s website. He only looked at it for ten or fifteen minutes. And he spent most of that laughing at Cas’s black and yellow striped rain boots with cartoon bumblebee faces on the toes.

Cas called on Friday night. “It’s not too late, is it?” he asked, and there seemed to be a dual meaning to the question.  
  
“No, it’s fine.” Dean closed his bedroom door for some privacy. He hadn’t told Sam or anyone else about Cas yet. They would be so happy that he was finally “moving on”, and if things didn’t work out they would immediately smother him in comfort. He didn’t want to deal with that. “How’ve you been?”  
  
“Good. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. The store’s been busy now that the weather is warming up, and then Grace had to go to the vet.” 

“Is she okay?” Dean asked, genuinely concerned. He liked that dog, and she was clearly very important to Cas. 

“Yes, it was nothing serious. Just a small scratch that got infected. She’s feeling much better now. In fact, I was planning to take her to the park tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us.” 

“Sure.” Dean tried not to sound like an eager puppy and mostly failed. “What time?” 

“I close the store at two on Saturdays, and I live right next door, so if you meet me there at two thirty, that’ll give me enough time to change my clothes and pack us some food. I’m not much of a cook, but I can do sandwiches.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Dean had always preferred informal dates. Getting dressed up and going somewhere expensive might be romantic, but it didn’t really encourage people to be themselves which kind of defeated the whole purpose of a date.

“Great.” Cas sounded a little relieved. “Do you need directions to the store?” 

“No, I, um … I already looked you up,” Dean admitted. “Love the boots, by the way. Do you actually wear those, or was that just PR for the website?” 

Cas laughed, and even distorted by the phone, it was one of the top five most beautiful sounds Dean had ever heard. “Believe it or not, I actually wear them. They were a gift from my brother, and they’re the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever owned. Also completely waterproof which is very important in my line of work.” 

“I think they’re cute. Do the actual bees like them?” 

“They do, but I don’t think they recognize that it’s supposed to look like a bee. They’re just attracted to bright colors.” 

Dean realized that at some point in the conversation he had flopped down sideways across his bed with his head hanging upside down over the edge. God, he was such a girl, but he was comfortable, and no one could see him. 

“So how was your week?” Cas asked. “Get any interesting puzzles to work on?” 

Like Cas with his bees, Dean didn’t need much encouragement to talk about cars. He told Cas about a ‘73 Dodge Charger that he was rebuilding practically from scrap. “The guy thought she just needed new spark plugs, but when we opened her up the battery was rusted, the fuel line was leaking, and about a dozen other things. It’s a miracle she didn’t go up in flames…” The next time he happened to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, it was after ten. “God. Sorry. I’m probably putting you to sleep.”  
  
“Not at all,” Cas assured him. “I didn’t understand most of it, but I like listening to you talk. Has anyone ever told you what a beautiful voice you have?” 

Dean felt a flush creep into his cheeks. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, no.” 

“Well, you do. And when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about, it’s even more beautiful.” 

“Shit, Cas. You’re making me blush.” 

“Mmm. That’s another thing you do beautifully. I’m sorry I’m missing it.” 

“Dude, has anyone ever told _you_ you’re a shameless flirt?” 

“Oh, yes. Many people. If I’m making you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop.” Cas’s tone had shifted from seductive to serious in two seconds flat.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just …” Dean hesitated. This was gonna make him sound so insecure, but what the hell. He _was_ insecure, and he needed to know for sure. “You’re not just teasing, right? You’re actually … interested in me?” 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said, and nothing in his voice made Dean feel stupid for asking. “Are _you_ interested in _me_?” 

“Yeah, definitely, but … Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of want to take things slow. Cause I usually don’t. I’m very impulsive, and I … I really like you, and I don’t want to screw this up.” 

“I understand, Dean,” Cas said without hesitation. “There’s no rush. And like I said, if I do anything you’re not comfortable with, tell me and I’ll stop immediately. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Dean wasn’t sure why, but he trusted Cas.

“It’s late,” Cas said. “We should both get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

As soon as he hung up, Dean set three alarms on his phone. No way was he gonna forget about this.

~o0o~

Cas stared blankly at the phone in his hand for a long time. He hadn't lied about the things that had kept him busy all week, but he had also been using the busyness as an excuse to avoid calling Dean. Not because he didn't want to. He wanted to hear Dean's voice again. Way too much.

Was he really prepared to let himself fall completely in love with Dean Winchester? Because the more time they spent together, the more inevitable it would become. Could he handle the hurt and disappointment if Dean took one look at the broken, scarred, neurotic mess that was the real Castiel Novak and ran for the hills?

Sensing his spiraling mood, Grace jumped up on the couch with him and nuzzled his cheek with her wet nose.

“I’m okay,” he assured her, but he leaned against her, burying his face in her fur. “I’m okay. No matter what happens, _you’ll_ still love me, right?”

She licked his hair. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean spent the first part of his Saturday washing and prettying up his Baby so she could make a good impression on Cas. He didn’t consciously think of it as a test, but the genuine admiration on Cas’s face when he saw the car for the first time definitely made Dean lo— like the man a little more.

“She’s beautiful,” Cas said, lightly touching the gleaming black paint which was marred by not a speck of pollen dust. “I know nothing about cars, but even I can tell this is a classic. How old is it?” 

“She’s a ‘67 Chevy,” Dean said while fending off Grace’s enthusiastic greeting. “My dad bought her used in the seventies, and he took pretty good care of her.” 

Even when he let everything else fall apart, he took care of the car. Sometimes Dean thought it was the only thing the old man had really loved. No one was more surprised than Dean when John left the car to him, his most prized possession to the son he despised. 

Dean pushed the bitter memories to the back of his mind where he kept all the crap he didn’t want to think about. Today was going to be fun, not depressing. “So,” he said, “you want to go for a ride?” 

“Oh, yes,” Cas said. “Whenever you’re ready.” His eyes slid up and down Dean’s body in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just talking about the car. 

Dean swallowed and did his best to ignore the twitch of anticipation in his pants. _Slow_ , he reminded himself. _Make sure you actually know what you want this time, and make sure you know what_ he _wants from you because the last thing you need right now is to get your heart broken. Again._

~o0o~

Cas was in heaven, or close enough. The sun was setting, and he and Dean were lying side by side on a blanket, watching the sky change colors. Grace was fast asleep by their feet, worn out by hours of fetch with Dean. Cas was pretty sure his dog was falling in love just as fast as he was.

He rolled onto his side and put his hand on Dean’s chest. He felt the other man’s heart speed up, but Dean just looked up at him, green eyes calm, almost drowsy. “Is this okay?” Cas asked. 

“Yeah.” 

The raspy whisper instantly had heat gathering in Cas’s belly and trickling steadily downward. He had never reacted to anyone this strongly before. Dean turned him on without even trying. It was terrifying and exhilarating and he couldn’t get enough. He leaned closer a little bit at a time until their noses were almost touching. “What about this?” 

A strong, calloused hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and he could feel the vibrations of Dean’s voice in his own chest when the other man growled, “Just fucking kiss me already.” 

Cas barely had to move to cover Dean’s mouth with his, and holy shit, it was a thousand times better than he’d imagined. Dean’s lips were soft and warm, and when they opened to Cas’s gently probing tongue, he discovered that Dean tasted like an ocean breeze, salty and complex and refreshing. He couldn’t contain the little moan of pleasure that rose up in his throat. 

All too soon the inexorable tide of arousal forced him to pull away. 

“You don’t have to stop,” Dean said breathlessly.  
  
“Yes, I do. Quite apart from the fact that I promised to take things slow, we’re in public, and I’m not quite _that_ shameless.” 

A smug grin spread over Dean’s face. “Really? Just from one kiss?” 

“You underestimate your kissing abilities.” 

Dean laughed, but it sounded nervous, and he was suddenly tense although he didn’t push Cas away.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, you’re fine. It’s nothing.” But Dean still wouldn’t look Cas in the eye. 

“What’s bothering you, Dean?” Cas prodded gently. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not. Whatever it is, it’s clearly making you unhappy, therefore it’s not stupid, and I want to know about it.” 

Dean got a very strange look on his face. Cas couldn’t decide if it was pleased, confused, or both. “I’m not …” He looked away again, his cheeks flaming. “I’m not very experienced, Cas. I’ve only been with three guys, and one of them I don’t really remember it cause I was really drunk. And you’ve obviously been around a bit. I’m not judging. I’m just saying I don’t know if I’m gonna live up to your expectations.” 

“Four.” 

Dean blinked. “What?” 

“My magic number. Four. I’ve slept with four men. And one woman, but I don’t count that because … Well, let’s just say we both came to the conclusion that I was most definitely gay.” 

Dean winced. “Sorry.” 

Cas smiled faintly. “Yes, it was pretty humiliating, but in retrospect it was a necessary experience which helped me understand myself better. Dean, I flirt a lot because social situations make me anxious, and flirting helps me feel more … in control, but I don’t let it go beyond flirting unless the other person is willing to give me a certain level of commitment. I don’t do casual sex.” 

“Oh,” Dean said softly. Cas couldn’t read his expression. 

“Is that going to be a problem for you?” 

“No. I, um …” Dean finally met Cas’s eyes, and for the first time Cas understood what Pam meant when she’d said Dean was fragile. “I was kind of hoping you wanted … more,” he said, and the combination of hope and fear in his voice made Cas’s heart hurt. 

“So we’re in agreement. From here on out, we are an exclusive couple until one of us says otherwise.” 

Dean smiled. “Sounds good to me.” 

They laid back down and looked up at the sky. It was a gorgeous shade of purple with streaks of green that foreshadowed a thunderstorm later. Dean reached out and took Cas’s hand, weaving their fingers together. After a moment, he wriggled a little closer to Cas and rolled his head until it was almost but not quite touching Cas’s shoulder. 

Cas smiled and closed the last inch of space between them. 

They watched the sun set, and then they watched the stars come out. They didn’t talk any more about the past or the future. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

“Fuck. Holy fucking shit. Cas!”

Dean’s resolve to take things slow had lasted exactly a week, and he thought he deserved a medal for that. 

Cas took his mouth off Dean with an obscene little pop and licked pre-come from his reddened lips. “Mmm. Much as I would love to make you come in my mouth,” he said, his voice deeper than Dean had ever heard it before, “tonight I have other plans for you.” He crawled up the bed, eyes never leaving Dean’s face. “Top or bottom?” 

“Bottom.” Dean felt his cheeks warm as he realized how quickly that had come out. Until that moment he would have sworn he didn’t have a preference. He enjoyed both roles equally, so he did whatever his partner wanted. But with Cas looking at him like that, blue eyes dark and predatory, all he wanted was to be pinned down and taken so hard that he would feel it all day tomorrow. 

Cas smiled. “You know I was hoping you’d say that,” he purred. He kissed Dean slow and deep, and Dean dimly heard him rummaging in the bedside table for supplies. 

They were at Cas’s place, a cozy little two story townhouse adjoining the store. Cas lived alone except for Grace (who was currently shut out of the bedroom and not happy about it), so they wouldn’t have to worry about volume control or awkward encounters with certain little brothers. 

Cas broke away from the kiss and said, “Dean, if I swear I’m clean, can we skip the condom?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.” He had gotten tested after the drunken one night stand that he barely remembered, and that was almost two years ago. He hadn’t been with anyone since. Speaking of which, “Cas, it’s, um … It’s been a while, so go slow, okay?” 

“I won’t hurt you, Dean. I promise.” Cas kissed his neck just behind his ear and then continued nipping and sucking the spot while a lubed finger began circling Dean’s entrance, massaging and loosening the muscles before pushing inside. 

Cas was true to his word. Dean felt no pain, only a slightly uncomfortable stretch which he immediately forgot when Cas’s fingertip skated over his prostate. He moaned shamelessly, his head tipping back into the pillows and his back arching off the bed. He’d almost forgotten how good that could feel. 

“Beautiful,” Cas murmured, sliding his finger in and out rhythmically. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” 

“You know you’ve already got me in bed, Cas,” Dean chuckled. “You don’t have to keep sweet talking me.” 

Cas frowned slightly. “You think this is flattery? It’s simply the truth.” He added a second finger as he kept talking, and Dean wasn’t sure which was turning him on more — Cas’s hands or his voice. “You’re beautiful. The most beautiful man I’ve ever met. It was the first thing I thought when I met you. When I walked into your office to get my car, I took one look at you and thought, ‘My God, I want to fuck him so badly.’” He punctuated the last word by adding a third finger and thrusting in deep. 

Dean gasped, embarrassment momentarily vanishing in a wave of arousal that had him fighting not to come. “Funny,” he said when he could string words together again. “Cause I thought the same thing. Made it damn hard to have a professional conversation.” 

“You did seem a little distracted,” Cas said with a smirk. “Do you think you’re ready, Dean?” 

“Fuck, yes. Do it. Want you inside me.” 

“I _am_ inside you.” Cas continued fucking Dean with his fingers, twisting a little on each thrust, completely neglecting Dean’s painfully hard cock. 

“Fuck. You know what I mean.” Dean couldn’t resist the urge to push down on Cas’s fingers.

“Of course I do,” Cas said, infuriatingly calm even though the evidence suggested that his own need was just as urgent. “But I want to hear you say it.” He leaned down and put his mouth right up against Dean’s ear. “Tell me what you want, Dean,” he breathed. “I’ll do anything you want, but you have to say it out loud.”

Face burning, Dean managed to mumble, “Fuck me on your cock. I want … want you to come inside me.” 

“As you wish.” 

Dean just barely had time to wonder if the _Princess Bride_ reference was deliberate before Cas’s fingers were replaced by something bigger. He wrapped his legs around Cas’s waist, trembling and gasping. It was almost more than he could stand. 

Cas wasn’t so calm and composed anymore. “Ngh. So fucking hot, Dean,” he moaned into Dean’s neck. “So tight. God, I can’t … It’s been a while for me too. Don’t know how long I’m gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said, or rather panted. “I’m pretty close already. Just go for it.” 

As Cas started to move, Dean tangled his fingers in the other man’s hair and pulled just like he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks. Cas’s reaction was even better than he’d hoped. The man screamed with ecstasy, drove his hips into Dean hard enough to leave bruises, and came. The first pulse of hot fluid hit Dean’s prostate and instantly tipped him over the edge.

When he came down enough to notice his surroundings, Cas was rolling off him, mumbling something that sounded like, “Jesus fucking Christ, not now.” 

“Cas? You okay?” 

Cas opened his mouth, but all that came out was a pained whimper. He pulled a pillow over his face. 

Dean sat up, seriously freaked out. “Cas, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”  
  
Cas moved the pillow just enough that he could talk coherently but not enough to let Dean see his face. “Remember I told you I get vertigo?” 

“Yeah. You’re having that now?” 

“Yes, and it’s a bad one.” 

“Okay. What should I do? Is there a medicine you need, or —”

“No, I just have to wait for it to pass.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” Every instinct Dean had rebelled against the idea of leaving Cas alone like this, but Cas was an adult. He was obviously used to coping with his condition on his own, and if he’d rather Dean didn’t see him like this, Dean would respect that.

Cas said very softly, “No. Please stay.” 

“Okay.” Dean kissed Cas’s shoulder, and Cas smiled weakly and moved the pillow off his face. “I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna get something to clean us up.” 

He found wipes in the adjoining bathroom, took care of the sticky mess on his stomach and between his legs, then went back to the bed and gently cleaned Cas, trying not to jostle him too much. 

“Thanks,” Cas said, still in that soft, barely there voice. He sounded like he was about to cry, and he wouldn’t look directly at Dean. 

“It’s no problem,” Dean assured him. “Do you want me to let the dog in?” 

“Please.” 

Dean got up and opened the door. Grace immediately bounded through, hardly glancing at him, and jumped on the bed. Cas put an arm around her and let her cuddle close to his chest. He looked over at Dean, standing hesitantly by the foot of the bed, still naked.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “I understand if … if you don’t want to.” He sounded so sad and resigned that it made Dean physically hurt. 

Dean walked back around the bed and laid down behind Cas, pressing up against him so that Cas was sandwiched between Dean and Grace. “I don’t scare that easy,” he said. 

Cas relaxed and let Dean tuck the blankets around all three of them. “You’re a good man, Dean Winchester,” he murmured sleepily. “Wish I could keep you forever.” 

Dean’s heart stuttered in his chest, but before he could get up the courage to ask Cas if he really meant that, Cas started snoring softly. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of child abuse.

Cas woke up uncomfortably warm, and no wonder since he was sharing the bed with a sleeping dog _and_ a sleeping, naked man. Their combined body heat had turned the space under the blankets into a furnace, but despite that and his full bladder, Cas didn’t want to get up just yet. He squirmed onto his other side so he could see Dean’s face. 

It was odd seeing him so still and peaceful. When he was awake, Dean was always full of restless energy like a humming beehive. It was one of the things Cas loved about him. He reached out and lightly traced the line of Dean’s jaw, stubble prickling his fingertips. God, the man was gorgeous. There were little lines at the corners of his eyes, more than there should be on a man in his late twenties, but Cas found that beautiful too. Dean had clearly led a difficult life, yet somehow his soul had remained pure and innocent. He wasn’t just the most physically attractive man Cas had ever met. He was also the most genuinely kind and caring.  
  
Cas tried to memorize every detail of Dean’s face just in case this was the last time he got to see it. Yes, Dean had stayed the night despite Cas’s attack, but maybe he was just too nice to break up with a guy who was already sick and miserable and humiliated. Maybe as soon as he woke up and saw that Cas was feeling better, he would politely extract himself from the situation. Well, better for it to happen now while Cas still had a prayer of keeping his heart in one piece.  
  
A wet nose snuffled at the back of his neck, and he smiled. How did she always know when he needed to be distracted from his thoughts? He turned back over and looked into Grace’s adoring eyes. “I suppose you want to eat.” 

She jumped off the bed and looked up at him expectantly, but she didn’t go to the door yet. She knew her job came first. 

Cas sat up slowly, relieved when the room didn’t tilt and spin around him, but he still kept one hand on Grace’s back while they walked to the bathroom. He was much more prone to fainting early in the morning when his body was still adjusting to consciousness. Grace kept pace with him perfectly and watched him carefully while he went through his morning routine, alert for any sign of unsteadiness. 

When he went back into the bedroom, Dean had rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in Cas’s pillow. The edge of the blanket just barely covered his ass, and Cas took a moment to enjoy the view. Then he noticed something that made his stomach clench and his breath catch in his chest. The morning light coming through the window revealed faint scars crisscrossing Dean’s back. They were old, faded to white just slightly paler than the rest of the skin. _A souvenir from the father he doesn’t like to talk about?_ Whoever had made those marks, Cas wanted to kill them. 

He quietly put on a clean t-shirt and boxers and left Dean still sleeping peacefully. While Grace was taking care of her business, Cas checked on the beehives and put out food for the cat, Claire. She was a stray that had started coming around a few months ago, and she had dealt with his rat problem quickly and mercilessly. These days no rat dared to poke its nose out within a hundred yards of _East of Eden_ , despite the tantalizing compost pile behind the greenhouse. Grace had tried to chase Claire only once. The tiny tabby had stood her ground and swatted the big dog across the nose. After that they were best friends, even napping together in the sun while Cas was working in the garden. 

Back in the house, Cas filled Grace’s bowl, gave her fresh water, and then started the coffee. He usually set the coffee maker the night before, but of course Dean had thoroughly distracted him, and then he’d had his attack. He sighed as another wave of humiliation welled up in his gut. It was inevitable that sooner or later Dean would see one of his episodes, but the timing couldn’t possibly have been worse. At least he’d gotten Dean to climax before the dizziness hit although that was sheer luck. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice that he had company until strong arms slid around his waist and warm lips pressed against his neck. “Who the hell gets up at seven thirty on a Saturday?” Dean grumbled. 

Cas couldn’t resist the urge to lean back into the other man’s chest, and he noted that Dean wasn’t wearing a shirt, only boxers. “I have to open the store at ten,” he said. “Believe me, I wish I could spend the whole day in bed with you.” 

“Okay, so not the whole day, but we’ve got almost three hours, and I’ve got nowhere to be. Come on. Come back to bed for a little while.” 

Cas turned in Dean’s arms, his stomach knotting with anxiety. Much as he wanted to soak up every second of Dean’s presence with no thought for what the future might hold, he couldn’t let himself get in any deeper unless he was sure. “Dean, if this is … if this is going to be … If you’re going to break up with me, please just get it over with.” 

Dean frowned. “Why would I break up with you? Because of last night? I told you, I don’t scare that easy.” 

Cas searched Dean’s face for any sign that he was lying. “It’s really okay if you’re not comfortable with this, Dean,” he pressed. “It doesn’t make you a bad person. Not everyone can handle a relationship with a handicapped partner.” 

“Cas.” Dean sounded a little frustrated. “You told me about this on the first date, remember? It didn’t bother me then, and it still doesn’t now. What can I do to prove it to you?” 

Cas sighed with relief and rested his head against Dean’s. “Well, you could start by taking me back to bed.”

They left Grace happily eating her breakfast and the coffee maker gurgling while it prepared theirs. 

Dean was in control this time. He undressed Cas and pressed him down into the tangled blankets, slowly sucked him to full hardness, then straddled his hips and rode him in a gentle rocking motion while holding his hands above his head.  
  
As he watched Dean’s face contort with pleasure, every detail fully visible in the sunlit room, and listened to the symphony of little groans and mewls that came from the other man every time he sank down on Cas’s cock, the realization hit Cas like a freight train. _I love him. No almost or halfway about it. I’ve known him a little less than two weeks, and already I find it painful to contemplate life without him. I am completely, irrevocably, hopelessly in love with Dean Winchester._ A second, even more terrifying realization followed on the heels of the first. _I have to tell him everything._

Dean came hard, moaning incoherently although Cas was pretty sure he heard his name in there somewhere. As Dean’s body locked up tight, it squeezed Cas hard enough that stars burst in his vision as he came inside of Dean. This time there was no dizziness or nausea, and he could fully enjoy the experience. It was, beyond a doubt, the best sex he’d ever had.  
  
When they had both caught their breath a bit, Dean started to get up, but Cas pulled him back into the bed, murmuring, “No. Stay with me.” 

“I was just gonna get something to clean us up,” Dean said. 

“It can wait. Just hold me. Just for a few more minutes.” 

“Okay. You feeling all right?” 

“I’m fine. I just didn’t get to enjoy this part last night. Cuddling isn’t as much fun when you’re trying not to puke.” 

Dean chuckled and settled down behind Cas, wrapping an arm around his chest and nuzzling into the nape of his neck. 

Cas closed his eyes and said, “It wasn’t an accident.”

“Hmm? What wasn’t?” 

“My condition. The damage to my ear. It wasn’t an accident. My stepmother hit me with a cast iron frying pan when I was ten.”  
  
Dean went very still and muttered, “Jesus.” 

“She also used to starve me and lock me in the coat closet for days at a time. I’m claustrophobic because of that, and I have panic attacks and nightmares. I’m not telling you because I want pity. I’m telling you because you deserve to know exactly what you’re getting into with me.”

“My dad was an alcoholic. He used to beat me and my little brother.” Dean blurted out the words like they might burn his mouth if he didn’t get them out fast enough. Then he continued, slower and quieter, “Sometimes he’d just up and disappear for a couple weeks, and part of me always hoped he’d never come back even though I had to shoplift to keep us from starving to death. We lived on the streets for a while too, and that was a whole other kind of hell.” 

They were both silent for a while, absorbing each other’s revelations. Then Dean pushed himself up on his elbow and smiled down at Cas. “So we both got issues,” he said. “I’ll put up with yours as long as you put up with mine. Deal?” 

Cas smiled back. “Deal.” 

They sealed it with a kiss. 


	7. Chapter 7

“So what’s his name?”

Dean froze in the kitchen door like a deer in the headlights. “Who?”

Sam closed his laptop and gave his brother a Look. “Dude, don’t even try. You’ve been out all night, and you’ve got a hickey on your neck. Just please tell me he’s not married.” 

“What? No!” To Sam’s relief, Dean sounded more surprised than defensive. “Come on, dude. You know me better than that.” 

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t slept well last night, his mind subconsciously waiting for the familiar rumble of the Impala and Dean’s footsteps on the stairs. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry. I just can’t figure out why you suddenly feel the need to sneak around. You know I have no problem with you liking guys.” A thought occurred to him. “It _is_ a guy, right? You haven’t suddenly decided that you’re bi or pan or something? Cause that would be okay with me too.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I know that, and no, I’m still definitely gay.” 

“Okay, so why all the secrecy?” 

“I don’t know. I just … I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it until I was sure that it was … you know.” Dean’s eyes darted away shyly, and a pink tinge crept into his cheeks. “Serious,” he finished so quietly that Sam almost missed it.

Sam’s eyebrows rose, and something like hope swelled in his chest. He hadn’t seen that look on his brother in a long time. Not since Benny. “And is it?” he asked, hardly daring to breathe while he waited for an answer. 

Dean finally came all the way into the room and sat down across from Sam. “Yeah. I mean, I think so, and I’m pretty sure he thinks so. I don’t know how long it’s gonna last, but it’s definitely more than a fling.”

The bubble of hope in Sam’s chest got so big that it almost hurt. “So I repeat. What’s his name?”  
  
“Cas.” A smile tugged at Dean’s mouth as he said it.

“And how did you meet him?” 

“At work. We did an oil change for him, and when he came to get his car, I was working the desk cause Bobby was out with the tow truck, and Ash was helping Andy with a custom paint job, and … Well, you know I’m not the most focused person at the best of times, and suddenly there’s this gorgeous man standing in front of me. I got so distracted I almost forgot to get his payment. _He_ had to remind me. God, he must have thought I was a total idiot, but somehow I got up the nerve to ask him out before he left, and for some reason he said yes, and … Well, that was about two weeks ago.” Dean trailed off, a smile still on his face. 

“You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?” Sam said quietly. 

Dean nodded, a far away look in his eyes. “God help me, I think I am.” He abruptly focused on Sam again, and his tone was a little panicked when he continued, “That’s crazy, right? I mean, that’s impossible. You can’t fall in love in two weeks. Not really.” 

Sam shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I fell for Jess in, like, two seconds. Just took me a while to admit that I was a goner. You should be really sure before you say anything to him though.” 

“I know. Believe me, I’m trying my damnedest not to screw this up.” Dean looked down at the scratched wood of the tabletop, tracing the spot where they’d carved their initials into it the day they moved in. There was a similar mark on the back right side door of the Impala, and on the windowsill of their room at Bobby and Jodi’s house. It was their tradition, their way of declaring, _This is home_. “I told him about Dad.” 

That took Sam by surprise. As far as he knew, Dean had never shared that part of his past with any of his previous boyfriends, not even Benny. 

“He told me some stuff about himself. Stuff you don’t tell someone you’re not serious about. And I wanted him to know that I was serious too, and that I got it, you know? That my life wasn’t perfect either.” 

“Do you regret telling him?” Sam asked, puzzled by Dean’s tone. It was almost fearful. 

“No, but that’s what’s kind of freaking me out. I … I trust him, Sam. I don’t know if I love him, but I definitely trust him.” 

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s … unexpected, I guess. I don’t normally trust people this fast.” 

“So maybe you’re finally learning how to listen to your instincts and not your inner abandoned child.” 

Dean gave Sam an amused look. “My _what_? Have you been reading self help books again?” 

“No, I, um …” Sam took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to tell him. “I’ve actually been seeing a therapist.” He plowed on before Dean could say anything. “Please don’t go all Winchester on me about this, okay? I was skeptical at first, but Jess talked me into it, and it’s actually really helping.” 

“Okay, but what is it helping with exactly?” Dean demanded, his eyes frantically searching Sam’s face. “Sammy, are you … not okay?” 

Sam realized where his brother’s mind was going and kicked himself for not being clearer. “Dean, I’m not depressed or suicidal or anything. I’m just having some anxiety about the wedding and my future with Jess and what kind of husband and father I’m going to be considering the way we grew up. I just needed someone to teach me how to correct my thought process and pull myself out of the hole when I start spiraling. That’s all.” 

“Oh.” Dean relaxed. “Okay. You know you didn’t need to hide this from me.” 

“And _you_ didn’t need to hide your boyfriend from _me_ , so we’re even.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“You hungry?” Sam asked after a minute.

“Starving. Haven’t eaten since last night, and there was a lot of —”

“If you don’t finish that sentence, I’ll make you chocolate chip pancakes.” 

Dean immediately closed his mouth. 

They actually worked together to make the pancakes, Dean mixing the batter while Sam prepped the griddle. Dean was a decent cook as long as there was no fire involved in his part of the process. 

“Hey, Sam?” Dean said as he gradually whisked the dry ingredients into the wet. “Can I change my mind about that plus one?” 

Sam smiled. “Of course, Dean.” He valiantly resisted the urge to say, _I told you so._


	8. Chapter 8

“ _How_ many?” Dean stared incredulously at Cas who was sprawled across the debauched bed, completely uncovered and completely unselfconscious. 

It was a gray, drizzly Sunday, and their lunch date had turned into an extended nooner. While they worked up the energy for round three, they were talking about everything and anything that they didn’t already know about each other. They had covered favorite movies (Cas: _Benny and Joon_ , Dean: _True Grit_ but only the original with John Wayne), childhood dreams (Dean: fireman, Cas: veterinarian or unicorn), and celebrity crushes (Cas: Brad Pitt, Dean: Christian Bale, Both: Harrison Ford), and had now moved on to siblings. 

Cas smirked and said, “You heard me correctly.”  
  
“Okay, but some of those are step siblings or half siblings, right?”  
  
“Nope. My stepmother never had any children of her own. It was a touchy subject for her, so I suspect she couldn’t.” 

“So your parents had _ten_ kids, and then they decided, hey, let’s have ten _more_? I mean, I like kids, but not _that_ much.”

“I don’t think they actually made a decision to have twenty kids. It just happened. They were devout Catholics. They didn’t believe in birth control, and apparently they loved each other very much.” Some of the amusement faded from Cas’s tone as he added, “Of course, these days my brother Gabriel is the only one I have any kind of relationship with, and he’s not great at keeping in touch, so most of the time I might as well be an only child.” 

Dean shifted closer to him in the nest of pillows and tangled sheets. “What’s he like?”

Cas chuckled and moved to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder, his bed hair tickling the bare skin. “Gabriel is difficult to describe. Sometimes he’s the best brother I could ask for, loyal and generous and good hearted, and sometimes he’s a complete dick. His sense of humor is very similar to that of a Bugs Bunny cartoon, and he doesn’t always notice when a joke has gone too far. But I’ll say this for him — he has always accepted me for exactly who I am. And that’s all I really need from him. The rest of it I can put up with. It’s better than nothing.” He sighed and snuggled a little closer to Dean’s side. “What about you? Are you close with your brother?” 

“Yeah. Very. We still live together. At least, we do for the next three months.” As always, there was a twinge of loneliness in Dean’s chest when he thought about that, but with the warm, solid weight of Cas in his arms and the smell of their lovemaking still in the air, he barely noticed it. He had stopped worrying about finding a roommate. Living alone wouldn’t be so bad if it meant he could have Cas over whenever he wanted, and they could have loud, shameless sex in any room in the house. 

“Why?” Cas asked, lifting his head a little. “What happens in three months?” 

“He’s getting married.” More than a year into the engagement, and Dean still couldn’t say it without grinning like an idiot. “On the Fourth of July actually. The reception’s gonna be a barbecue in our foster parents’ backyard. They’re on kind of a tight budget.” He took a breath and added as casually as he could, “I have a plus one if you, um … if you want to come with me. They’ve all been bugging me about when they’re gonna get to meet you.” 

Cas tensed a little, and Dean’s heart sank. “I, um …” Cas avoided Dean’s eyes, staring down at his chest instead. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Dean. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Dean said, doing his best to hide his disappointment. “You’re right. Too soon. Forget I said anything.” The voice of insecurity wondered if maybe Cas wasn’t even sure if they would still be together in three months. Dean silenced that voice by rolling Cas onto his back and kissing him hard. “I think that’s enough talking for now,” he murmured.  
  
Cas agreed. 

~o0o~

After round three, they napped for an hour, then showered together and managed one more orgasm each before admitting defeat. Now they were watching a mindless sitcom while a frozen pizza warmed up in the oven. Grace was laying at their feet, sulking because she’d been shut out of the bedroom all afternoon and now there was no space for her on the couch. Cas tried to win her forgiveness by rubbing her head with his foot which she usually liked, but she was steadfastly ignoring him, and honestly he was more worried about Dean’s mood. 

They were sitting close enough together that it could technically be termed cuddling, and Dean was carding his fingers through Cas’s damp hair, but he was tense and too quiet, staring at the TV without really seeing it and never looking at Cas. The last couple rounds of sex had felt different too. Though Dean had been as gentle as ever, there was a desperation in his movements, like he was afraid that every touch might be the last. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he would think that. 

“Dean.” Cas muted the TV, and Dean finally turned to look at him. The wariness in those beautiful green eyes broke Cas’s heart. The phrase “kicked puppy” sprang to mind. “Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”  
  
“You didn’t,” Dean said a little too quickly. “I get it, Cas, and I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.” He was lying about not being hurt, but the rest of it was genuine. 

“I appreciate that,” Cas said with a smile. “I really do, and I think I should explain _why_ I don’t want to go to your brother’s wedding.” 

“It’s fine. You don’t have to —”

“I want to. I want you to understand that this isn’t …” He touched Dean’s cheek and felt the other man press into his hand just a little. “This isn’t because I’m unsure about my feelings for you or not completely committed to this relationship. I want to meet your family. I just don’t think this is the best way to do it. I find meeting new people a little nerve wracking at the best of times, and I really don’t like crowds. I don’t want … _When_ I meet your family, Dean,” — Dean’s eyes lit up and a tentative smile quirked his mouth — “I want to make a good impression, and under these circumstances, I don’t think I would. Can you understand that?”  
  
Dean nodded and kissed him. This time there was no desperation in it. It was soft and warm as a sigh of relief. They were interrupted by the oven timer, but it wouldn’t have led to anything anyway. They were both well and truly fucked out. 

“So … I have another suggestion,” Dean said when they were settled back in with their pizza.  
  
“I’m listening,” Cas said. He slipped Grace a piece of pepperoni. When she licked his hand and then put her head on his knee, he knew he was forgiven. 

“We do this family movie night every couple months. It’s usually just me and Sam and our foster sister Charlie. Sometimes her girlfriend comes too. It’s really casual. We just watch movies and eat junk food. Sometimes we play video games. Do you … Would you be interested in that?” 

Cas thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t missed the way Dean slipped in a mention of his sister’s _girl_ friend, subtly reassuring Cas that no one would object to Dean bringing home a man. “Yes,” he said. “That sounds like fun.” 

Dean beamed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of child abuse.

Cas took a deep breath, rested one hand on Grace’s head for reassurance (his own; _she_ wasn’t nervous at all), and rang the doorbell. Almost immediately he heard thumping footsteps running towards him and the door was flung open by a petite young woman with flaming red hair and a t-shirt that declared, _I Aim to Misbehave_. She blinked at Cas and said in a somewhat disappointed tone, “You’re not the pizza man.” 

Cas blinked back. “No, I’m not. I’m —”

“Cas! You came!” Dean came running down the stairs from the upper floor of the house, a smile lighting up his face. He was barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt, his hair sticking up in damp spikes from a recent shower. Cas had never seen anyone look more effortlessly sexy, and it both calmed his nerves and made his heart beat faster. 

“You sound surprised,” he said as Dean pushed past the girl and tugged him over the threshold, Grace padding close behind. “Did you think I would chicken out at the last minute?” 

Dean shrugged and blushed faintly. “I’m glad you didn’t.” 

“Mmm. So am I.” Cas slipped an arm around Dean’s waist and leaned in for a kiss which Dean willingly gave him. 

The girl coughed pointedly, but when the two men reluctantly separated to look at her, it was clear that she was just annoyed at being ignored, not uncomfortable with their overt coupleness. “You know,” she said to Dean, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement, “it only counts as meeting the family if you take your tongue out of his mouth long enough to actually introduce us.” 

Dean blushed a little deeper and said, “Cas, this is my sister Charlie. Charlie, this is Castiel Novak.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Cas said, holding out his hand. 

She ignored the hand and went up on tiptoe to hug him around the neck. “Dude, the pleasure is all mine. Dean has not stopped talking about you since we finally got him to admit that you existed.”

Cas managed to recover from his surprise quickly enough to awkwardly hug back. 

Meanwhile Dean was getting an equally affectionate greeting from Grace. “Oh, gross,” he said, wiping dog spit off his face and glaring at her. Grace panted at him unrepentantly, and Dean didn’t actually seem all that annoyed. 

“You missed a bit,” Cas said, reaching out to swipe a wet spot from Dean’s cheek, Charlie having finally released him. Dean was still crouched down, and as he looked up at Cas through his lashes and smiled, Cas suddenly desperately wished that they were alone. 

“Where’s the Sasquatch?” Dean said, standing up. 

Cas had no idea what he meant by that, but Charlie did. “In his room,” she said as she crouched down to introduce herself to Grace. “Jess called while you were in the shower, and, um … She sounded upset. I think she’s fighting with her parents about the wedding again.”  
  
“Oh.” A shadow crossed Dean’s face, but then he brightened up. “Well, in the meantime, how about I give you the grand tour?”

~o0o~

Cas liked small houses. Not one-room-shack small, but small enough that you didn’t feel dwarfed by all the space. The house where he had grown up was enormous, which had probably made sense when there were twenty two Novaks plus hired help all living under one roof, but as the Novak children grew up and one by one moved on with their lives, the place had begun to feel less and less like a home and more and more like a mausoleum.

Dean’s house was perfect. Not too big, not too small. The furnishings were mismatched, but somehow they all seemed to belong together even if that wasn’t what their designers had intended. There was just enough mess to make it clear that people actually lived here, but it didn’t feel slobby or dirty. The whole place seemed to sigh, “ _Home_.”

And Dean was obviously very proud of it. He held Cas’s hand as he led him from room to room and told him the story of the house. “Bobby and Jodi, our foster parents, had some money put aside to help us with college, but Sam got a full scholarship, and I barely made it through high school, so we put it into this instead. We got the house for a song, and it was, like, the definition of fixer upper. After Sam graduated law school, we spent the whole summer working on it, and all our friends and family helped out however they could. Jess, Sam’s fiancee — well, girlfriend at the time — she did most of the painting. She did that.” 

He was pointing to a mural on the tile wall above the kitchen sink. It depicted a beach and two little boys building a sand castle. Cas was sure he recognized the golden haired boy with the green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks. The smaller boy with the unruly brown curls tumbling into his face must be a young Sam. 

“She copied it from an old photo,” Dean said, confirming Cas’s theory. “I was about seven, and Sam was three. We were staying with a friend of Dad’s in Virginia Beach.” He reached out to touch the painted faces as though trying to comfort the children, reassure them that life would get better if they could just survive long enough to grow up. 

Cas squeezed Dean’s other hand. 

In the living room there was a small gallery of family photos, and right in the middle, all the other pictures orbiting around it, was a woman who could only be Dean’s mother. They had the same eyes, and the same brilliant smile. In the picture she was laughing, and she even tilted her head back the same way Dean did when he laughed. If there had been any lingering doubt, it was banished by the fact that she was sitting on the hood of a very familiar jet black Chevy Impala. 

“She died when I was four,” Dean said, moving to stand behind Cas and pulling the other man close to his chest. “There was a fire, and by the time Dad got me and Sam out, it was too late to go back. I only sort of remember her. I mean, I know what she looked like cause of pictures, and I know the stories Dad told us when he was sober and in a good mood, but the only thing I really remember is the sound of her voice. She had a beautiful singing voice, and she especially loved the Beatles.” 

“My mother’s favorite song was _Amazing Grace_. That’s why I named my dog Grace.” Said dog looked up at the sound of her name, and Cas patted her head to let her know nothing was required of her at the moment.

Dean rested his chin on Cas’s shoulder, pressing their cheeks together. “How old were you when she …” 

“I was six. Or almost six. Only Gabriel remembered my birthday that year. He made me a peanut butter sandwich and stuck a candle in it.” Cas smiled a little at the bittersweet memory. “But I’m not sure if she was already dead or just in the hospital. That whole period of time is a blur.” 

“Was she sick, or was it an accident?” 

“She had a miscarriage. Her twenty first child. The baby died almost immediately. Mother went into a coma and died a week later. Of course, I only found out the details many years later. At the time all anyone would tell me was that she had “gone to be with God”. I don’t think I realized she was dead until the funeral. It was open casket, and when I saw her lying there …” He shivered. “I ran away and hid in the church kitchen until it was over. I had nightmares about it for months.” He felt Dean’s arms tighten around him, anchoring him to the present, surrounding him with warmth and safety. 

Finally they got to the part of the house Cas most wanted to see. “Full disclosure, it’s usually a lot messier than this,” Dean said, standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the room while Cas wandered around looking at things.  
  
Grace eyed the big, soft bed longingly, looked at Dean, and humbly made herself comfortable on the floor. 

“You didn’t have to clean up for my benefit,” Cas said, examining the titles on the bookshelf. “I like a little bit of mess.” Dean had surprisingly classical taste in literature — Twain, Dickens, Vonnegut, even a battered copy of _The Odyssey_ with bright pink post-it notes marking favorite pages. Clearly he was a lot smarter than he liked to admit. 

“Really?” Dean said skeptically. “Cause your place is —”

“Obsessively neat? I know. It’s a habit my stepmother beat into me. Literally. I had to clean my room every Sunday, and I do mean clean, not just tidy up. She would inspect it before we left for church, and heaven help me if there was a single dust bunny under the bed. I figured out that the neater I kept it during the week, the less work I had to do on Sunday, and the less likely I was to get in trouble, so I got in the habit of putting everything back in its place as soon as I was finished with it. I _wish_ I knew how to make a mess like a normal person.” Before the conversation could turn morbid again, he added, “You really like Vonnegut, huh?” The author had almost a whole shelf to dedicated to him. 

Dean laughed, and even though Cas had his back turned, he could tell by the sound of the laughter that Dean was blushing again. “Yeah. He was the first writer who made me really enjoy reading. When I was a kid I read Batman comics and that was about it. I mean, I had to read other stuff for school, but usually I’d just skim until I picked up enough to fake it. It wasn’t like anyone cared about my grades anyway.” A touch of bitterness crept into his tone, but he shook it off quickly and continued, “But then we came to live with Bobby and Jodi, and their house is _full_ of books. Bobby collects them, and Jodi bitches about how much space they take up, but every Christmas and birthday she buys him more.” 

Cas had turned towards Dean now, and the look in Dean’s eyes when he talked about his foster parents’ marriage made it clear how much he wanted a relationship like theirs, wanted someone to know all his flaws and idiosyncrasies and annoying habits, and love him not despite them but because of them. _I could do that,_ Cas thought, but he kept the thought to himself for now. 

“So one day, I guess I was bored, and I pulled a random book off the shelf and started reading. Turned out it was _Slaughterhouse Five_ , and …” Dean chuckled. “Man, I did not know what I was getting myself into, but damned if I didn’t love every weird, morbid, confusing bit of it.” 

“I’ve never read it,” Cas admitted.

Dean gaped at him. “You’ve _never_ read _Slaughterhouse Five_? Not even for school?” 

“I went to Catholic school, Dean. Our literature curriculum was heavily censored.” 

Dean gave an offended huff, plucked a dogeared paperback off the shelf, and held it out to Cas. “Bet you dinner at Pam’s that you’ll finish it in less than a day.”  
  
Cas took the book as gently as if it was a baby bird. It was obviously one of Dean’s favorites judging by the layers of scotch tape holding the spine together, and Cas had a feeling that he wouldn’t have loaned it to just anyone. “So if I like it, I buy you dinner, and if I don’t like it, you buy me dinner?”  
  
“Yep.” 

“Sounds fair.” He put the book on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, bouncing a little to test if it was as soft as it looked. It was. Never taking his eyes off Dean, he laid back and stretched languidly. “You should close the door,” he said. 

Dean did. Then he came over to the bed and propped one knee on the edge of the mattress, looking down at Cas speculatively. That look set Cas’s skin on fire. Dean was taking his time deciding exactly what he wanted to do, and whether he knew it or not, there was almost nothing Cas wouldn’t let him do. Cas had trusted him completely since the night Dean had stayed, holding him and helping him through his attack without ever making him feel weak or pitiable. 

“I feel like a teenager,” Cas chuckled. “Making out in my boyfriend’s bedroom.” 

Dean took his hands, lacing their fingers together. “You do realize we’re not actually making out yet.” 

“No, we’re not.” Cas stretched his arms above his head, pulling Dean’s hands with him so that Dean was forced to climb onto the bed. “We should fix that.” 

Their lips had barely touched when the door opened. “Pizza’s he— Oh. Sorry,” Charlie said. 

“Dammit, Charlie, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Dean grumbled. 

“Well, now I _really_ feel like a teenager,” Cas said as Dean climbed off him. Thank God, neither of them was worked up enough to make this truly embarrassing. 

“Pizza’s here,” Charlie repeated. “Come pick a movie before Sam makes us watch _Legally Blond_ again.” 

That certainly motivated Dean to get moving. 

~o0o~

Dean’s nickname for his “little” brother was certainly accurate. Cas was not a short man, but Dean was a couple inches taller than him, and Sam was a good three inches taller than Dean. Cas had to tilt his head back a little to make eye contact which was probably why he immediately remembered exactly where he had seen Sam Winchester before. You didn’t meet too many six foot four men with a passionate interest in organic honey. 

“I’ve met you somewhere,” Sam said, his brow furrowing in thought as he shook Cas’s hand, thankfully eschewing both the hug and the macho finger crushing contest that Cas had feared. “I just can’t remember —”

“The farmer’s market,” Cas said with a smile. “You purchased a jar of thyme honey from me, and we had a very pleasant conversation about bees.” 

“Right.” Sam laughed. “Small world.” 

“Small town certainly.” 

Behind Cas, Dean snorted and said, “Plus you’re both geeks. Figures you’d do the same geeky things.” But he said it affectionately. 

“Says the guy who’s seen every _Star Trek_ episode ever made,” Sam retorted in the same tone.

Then, just as Cas was bracing himself for the inevitable interrogation, the conversation turned smoothly to what movies they were going to watch. This was apparently a delicate negotiation, and there were strict rules in place to prevent bloodshed. Everyone present (except Grace of course) got one nomination and one veto, but a movie was only rejected if it was vetoed by two or more participants. If a movie was vetoed, the person who nominated it got to pick a different one. When everyone had one of their choices in the final running, they rolled dice to determine which movie they would watch first. High roll won. When all the chosen movies had been watched, the process was repeated until a) they ran out of movies they could agree on, or b) they all fell asleep. The second one happened more often, Dean said. 

In the first round they actually skipped the dice and started with Charlie’s choice — an old fantasy movie called _Willow —_ because Dean, Sam, and Charlie were unanimously appalled that Cas had never seen it. It was quite good if shamelessly campy. Dean and Cas both ogled the very young, very fit Val Kilmer who played the hero. Dean and Charlie quoted their favorite lines until Sam and Cas threw popcorn at them and told them to shut up. All four of them laughed at the terrible special effects. 

By the time the end credits rolled, Cas was feeling completely at ease and also a little envious of Dean. He had never and would never have the kind of bond Dean had with his siblings. He loved Gabriel fiercely and was eternally grateful for his unwavering support and unconditional acceptance, but they had lived separate lives for too long, and their few shared memories were too painful to make the foundation of a comfortable relationship. 

Dean rolled double sixes, and while he was putting _Caddyshack_ in the player, Sam asked Cas to help him make more popcorn. Since it really wasn’t a two person job, Cas knew what was coming, and he was grateful when Sam didn’t waste time with pointless small talk. 

“Here’s the deal,” Sam said, looming over Cas in the little kitchen while the microwave hummed and the popcorn popped. “Dean is my big brother, and he has always protected me as much as he could no matter what it cost him. He says he told you about our dad, so you have an idea of what I mean by that. The thing is, Dean doesn’t realize that it goes both ways. He thinks that he’s the protector and I’m the protected, and that’s the end of it, but he’s wrong.” Sam took a step forward, and Cas just barely resisted the urge to step back. “You hurt him, you mislead him about your feelings or betray his trust in any way, and I’ll make you wish you were dead. Got it?”  
  
“Got it,” Cas said. His voice only squeaked a little bit. 

Grace, who had followed Cas as always, began to take issue with Sam’s threatening posture and growled warningly, but Cas put his hand on her head, and she instantly stopped. 

“I assure you, Sam,” he went on, maintaining eye contact with the other man even though his neck was starting to hurt, “this isn’t a fling to me. There is nothing casual about my feelings for Dean. I …” _Love him_. But Dean should be the first to hear those words from Cas’s mouth. “I would never intentionally hurt him, and I’m glad there are people who will hold me accountable if I ever hurt him unintentionally. I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees how special he is.” 

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up, almost involuntarily it seemed. “You’re definitely not,” he said in a softer tone. “In fact, I think the only person who doesn’t see it is Dean.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of homophobia. 
> 
> The next few chapters are a little angstier than the rest of the story, but not Dean and Cas fighting angsty. More hurt/comfort. Emphasis on the comfort, I promise.
> 
> Also, Claire is the name of Cas's cat. I only mentioned her once before and one of my beta readers got confused, so I thought I should remind you.

The weeks blurred into one another, and before Dean knew it, he had been with Cas for more than two months. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that he was really in love. Maybe for the first time in his life. 

He definitely hadn’t been in love with his drunken one night stand. He didn’t even know the guy’s name. Aaron had been a rebound after Benny. And Benny … He had loved Benny, and Benny had loved him, but it wasn’t the kind of love you could build a future on, and he was just starting to figure that out when Benny died. 

That was the real reason he’d spent two years sleeping alone. It wasn’t, as Sam and everyone else had thought, that he felt like moving on would be an insult to Benny’s memory. It was just too damn confusing, grieving for his best friend who was also his lover but only sometimes. He couldn’t navigate that and dating at the same time, and one experiment conclusively proved that the whole casual sex thing was not for him. Which was fine. He had plenty of other things that made him happy — his job, his family, fixing up the house, working on his car. 

Then he met a man with crystal blue eyes and a voice like the purr of a well made engine, and he realized how much happier he could be. 

But for some reason he still hadn’t told Cas how he felt. More and more often when he looked into those impossibly blue eyes, especially when they were sleepy and sated and looking back at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe, the words were on the tip of his tongue. He could taste them, sweet and fizzing and terrifyingly easy to say, but he always swallowed them at the last second. What if it was too soon? What if he scared Cas away? The thought of losing him felt like a cold hand reaching into Dean’s chest and squeezing his heart. 

~o0o~

He wasn’t worried when he first woke up alone in Cas’s bed. The clock said 7:24 a.m., and he knew it was a Saturday which meant that once Grace and Claire had been fed, Cas would bring Dean coffee in bed and they would cuddle for a while, then have slow, lazy morning sex before showering together and finally getting ready to start the day. It had become a tradition. So Dean just rolled over into the warm space Cas had left behind, breathed in the faint, earthy garden scent that always clung to Cas even when he’d just showered, and dozed off again. 

The next time he opened his eyes, the room was much brighter and much warmer. The clock said 11:15, and there was still no sign of Cas. A twinge of unease in Dean’s gut chased away the lethargy of his sun soaked nap. He tried to remember if anything had felt off last night. They’d canceled their plans because it was pouring rain, but they’d had fun anyway, cooking boxed mac and cheese together, ignoring the movie they’d put on in favor of making out, then moving into the bedroom when the heated kisses and teasing touches were no longer enough. It wasn’t a fancy date, but it was … the kind of thing they always did. Was that the problem? Was Cas getting bored or frustrated because Dean never did any of the romantic stuff that people did in the chick flicks Cas liked so much? 

Dean sat up and kicked off the blankets. No. He was not gonna lay here making himself crazy with maybes and what ifs. He was gonna take a shower, drink some coffee, and then go over to the store and talk to Cas. That was what healthy couples did. They talked about shit. It was probably nothing anyway. Cas had probably just wanted to be nice and let Dean sleep in. 

The hot water helped calm him, and Cas had a really awesome shower, so it was almost noon by the time he dried off and put on jeans and a clean t-shirt. He kept a few changes of clothes at Cas’s place now since he slept there at least twice a week (usually more), and Ash and Andy teased him mercilessly if he showed up to work in the same clothes he’d been wearing the day before. 

He first realized something was very wrong when he walked into the kitchen in search of coffee and saw the back door standing wide open. Cas never left it open when he wasn’t home because the yard only had a low fence and the gate didn’t even lock. A hollow, fearful feeling replacing the uneasiness in his stomach, Dean pushed the screen door open and saw Cas sitting on the steps, his back to the house. 

He was wearing only boxers, a t-shirt, and his bumblebee rain boots, so he’d probably been there since he got up to feed the animals at seven. Grace was sitting next to him, her head in his lap, and Claire was curled up on his other side, both of them obviously concerned. Grace gave Dean a pleading look and whined. 

“Cas?” Dean said tentatively, crouching down and touching his shoulder. 

Cas didn’t flinch. He barely seemed to notice the contact. “Good morning, Dean,” he said, flat and toneless. 

“Afternoon actually. It’s about twelve.” 

That got Cas’s attention. “Shit,” he said. “I’m late.” As he started to get up, Dean finally saw his face. His eyes were red and swollen, and his cheeks were stained with dried tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean said, pushing him gently back down onto the step. “A few more minutes won’t make a difference now. Besides, you’re the boss. You can’t exactly get fired. What’s wrong, babe? Why were you crying?”

“I …” Dean had never seen Cas look so lost and sad. No more words followed that first one, and the hollowness inside Dean got deeper.

“Is this … Is this about us?” 

“No,” Cas said immediately. He twisted around and buried his face in Dean’s shoulder as though to prove it. “No,” he repeated, a little muffled. “We’re fine.” 

Dean breathed again. “Okay. So what is it? Talk to me, babe. Please.” 

“My father died last night.” 

The whole world seemed to go still and quiet. “Oh,” Dean said. “Oh, Cas, I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t seen or spoken to him in more than ten years. And now I never will.” Cas’s voice broke, and Dean felt fresh tears soaking into his shirt.

He settled into a more comfortable position, tucked Cas snugly into his arms, and rocked him gently while he cried. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. His own father had been a drunken, abusive asshole, and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Dean had hated him. It had been a shock when he died, but also a relief. Sam wasn’t eighteen yet at the time, and for years Dean had been living with the fear that John would find some way to get them back, to take them away from the safe, normal life they had finally built. So Dean had no idea what Cas was going through right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help. He held Cas tight and stroked his hair. 

Grace exchanged a long look with Dean over Cas’s shoulder. He was probably imagining it, but she seemed to be saying, _Thank you for loving him as much as I do and for helping him in ways I can’t._

“Gabriel convinced them to let me come to the funeral,” Cas said once his tears dried up again. “If I want to.” 

“Do you?” 

Cas was silent for almost a whole minute, and Dean let him think. Finally he said, “Yes. I missed my mother’s funeral because I was scared and confused and no one would explain to me what was happening, so I never got to …” — his voice cracked again — “to say goodbye. I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I did that twice.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” 

Cas lifted his head and looked at Dean. He seemed shocked. “You would do that?”  
  
“Of course.” Dean didn’t even have to think about it. It was Cas. He would go to hell for Cas.

“Dean, it …” Cas bit his lip. Clearly the last thing he wanted to do was talk Dean out of it, but as always he felt obligated to make sure Dean knew exactly what he was getting into. “It could be really bad. In fact, I can guarantee that someone there will have something bad to say about our relationship. Probably more than one person. It will be very uncomfortable for you.” 

“Cas.” Dean took Cas’s face between his hands and looked him steadily in the eyes. “There’s only one thing I care about here. Do _you_ want me to go with you? Yes or no.” 

“Yes.” The word was half sobbed. “God, yes. Please, please come with me. I can’t face them on my own.”

“You don’t have to.” Dean kissed him, soft and reassuring, tasting the salt from Cas’s tears. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time,” he murmured. “You’re not gonna be alone, baby.” _Not ever again._

~o0o~

“Gabriel’s in California on a business trip, so he’s offered to pick us up on his way to Boston. I know you dislike flying, but we can’t drive the distance in time, and if we have to fly, I figure a private jet is the most comfortable way to do it.”

Dean paused in cutting up tomatoes for bacon sandwiches. Cas was still frowning at his tablet, apparently unaware that he’d said anything odd, so Dean prompted, “Gabriel has a private _jet_?”

“Mm-hmm,” Cas said, most of his attention still on hotel reservations and car rentals. Dean had offered to take care of all that, but Cas had insisted that since he knew Boston better it made more sense for him to work out the logistics. Dean suspected he just wanted something to keep his mind occupied, but either way it did make sense. “Two of them actually. He calls them Thor and Loki.” 

“Damn, Cas. I’d kind of figured out that your family’s rich, but I didn’t realize they were own-two-planes rich.” 

A small smile quirked Cas’s mouth, the first of the day. “Oh, no. That’s just Gabriel. Our father is … was” — the smile faded — “moderately wealthy, but Gabriel refused to touch a penny of his money. Instead he went out and made ten times as much all on his own, thus making disinheritance an empty threat and freeing him to live his life however he chose.” 

“What does he do?” 

“Produces pornographic movies,” Cas said blithely. 

It was a good thing Dean had finished with the tomatoes or he might have cut his thumb off. “And your Catholic family still talks to _him_ but not to you?” 

“He’s smart enough to keep the details to himself. They think he makes obscure art films. They also don’t know that he’s bisexual, or that he married his wife in a Hindu ceremony. Gabriel is a much better liar than me.” 

Dean put a sandwich and a cup of coffee in front of Cas and took away the tablet. “No. Eat,” he ordered when Cas started to protest. “This stuff can wait twenty minutes. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.” 

Cas conceded the point, took a bite, and sighed with relief as he realized how hungry he actually was. Dean resolved to keep a close eye on him for the next few weeks. After Benny died, he had walked around in a fog for the better part of a month. Bobby, Jodi, Sam, and Charlie had ganged up to force him to eat, sleep, shower, and change his clothes because left to himself he would hide under the hood of the Impala twenty four hours a day, staring at the familiar interlocking pattern of engine parts until it seemed to contain the answer to all life’s mysteries. 

They ate in silence. Dean was fighting the urge to cheer Cas up, crack jokes or kiss him breathless, do anything to make him smile. The man had every right to mope. He’d just lost his only living parent if you didn’t count his stepmother, which Dean was sure Cas didn’t. She would no doubt be at the funeral, and Dean knew he would be sorely tempted to strangle her. He would just have to remind himself that getting arrested would break his promise to be there for Cas. 

“Cas,” he said when the food was gone and Cas was absently pushing crumbs around his plate while sipping his coffee. “If you …” He chose his words carefully so Cas wouldn’t think he was saying something else. “If you don’t want your family to know about our relationship … I mean, I wouldn’t be hurt if you’d prefer to introduce me as your friend or something, if it’ll make things easier for you. I know you’re not ashamed of me, and this isn’t about me getting to meet your family as your boyfriend. I’m doing this for _you_ , only you, so whatever you need from me, I’m happy to give it, even if it’s a white lie.” 

Cas smiled sadly and took Dean’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I appreciate that, Dean, but like I said, I’m not a good liar, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by getting caught in a lie. They already know that I’m gay. As soon as I show up with a man, they will assume that we’re intimate. If I pretend otherwise, they’ll assume that I’m ashamed, which they of course think I should be, so they’ll attack what they see as my weak spot. If I proudly introduce you as my boyfriend, it will offend them, but it will also surprise them, and hopefully it will keep them off balance long enough for us to pay our respects and make our escape.”

“You make them sound like sharks,” Dean said. “Or the Mafia.”

“Believe me, they are worse than either,” Cas said darkly. “But there is one silver lining to all this.” 

“What’s that?” 

Cas finally smiled a real smile. “You’ll get to meet Gabriel. _He’s_ going to love you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of homophobia.

Most of the time Cas didn’t miss being rich. Cliche as it might sound, the comforts and conveniences of wealth were a poor substitute for love, safety, and the freedom to be yourself without shame or fear. And it wasn’t like he lived in poverty. He had a comfortable home and got to spend the majority of his time doing something he loved. And now that he had Dean, he officially felt like the luckiest man alive. But he had to admit that at a time like this, it was very nice to have access to luxuries like private planes. In his current emotional state, he didn’t think he could have handled cramped spaces and crowds of strangers, even with both Dean and Grace to keep him calm and grounded. 

Gabriel met them at the gate and immediately pulled Cas into a tight hug. Cas held onto his brother a little longer than he usually would, knowing that this was the only warm welcome he would get. 

“How you doing, little bro?” Gabriel asked as they let go of each other. He had to step back a little to make eye contact without straining his neck, and Cas reflected on the irony that his big brother was only five foot eight while Dean’s little brother was over six feet. Split the difference and you’d get an average size man. 

“I’ve been better,” he said, “but honestly, I’ve been worse too. I feel like … not much has actually changed.” 

“Tell me about it,” Gabriel sighed. “Last Christmas he didn’t come out of his study. Not once. He was working on yet another book. Don’t know if he ever finished it. I went in to give him his present and he barely looked at me. And you know, I really wasn’t all that disappointed. I wasn’t expecting anything else. Feels like he’s been gone a long time.” 

Cas nodded. That was the way it had been for as long as he could clearly remember. Gabriel was old enough to remember a time when things were different, when they had a kind, gentle mother who sang hymns and told bedtime stories, and a gruff, quiet father who loved them in his own awkward way. But after the death of his beloved first wife, Charles Novak had lost interest in life. The characters in his bestselling novels became more real to him than his own children, and he left the running of the household entirely to Naomi. In fact, Cas suspected that was the only reason he’d married her. No one could possibly love that woman, especially when she stood in contrast to someone like their real mother. 

Gabriel’s gaze shifted to Dean who was standing patiently with Grace a few steps behind Cas, obviously not wanting to intrude on their family reunion. “You must be Dean,” Gabriel said, holding out his hand. 

Cas had an urge to check his brother’s fingers for buzzers or glitter glue or something, but Dean shook the offered hand with no regard for personal safety, and after only a moment his own hand was returned to him, clean and undamaged. “And you’re the infamous Gabriel,” he said with a charming smile that almost concealed his natural shyness. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only the really scandalous stuff I hope,” Gabriel said with a wink, but a second later he added in a more serious tone, or at least as close to serious as Gabriel ever got, “You know you’re walking into the lion’s den here, right? Our family makes the Mansons look like the Bradys.” 

Dean recognized a challenge when he heard one, and he lifted his chin a fraction of an inch. “I’m not doing this for fun,” he said evenly. “I’m doing it for Cas.” 

Cas was momentarily mesmerized by the strong line of Dean’s jaw and the spark of defiance in his green eyes, but he looked at his brother again in time to see surprise and approval. Dean had made a good first impression. 

Cas tried to memorize the look on Gabriel’s face so he could call it to mind when the rest of the Novaks looked at beautiful, kind, impossibly good hearted Dean like he was the devil. Cas knew he would have to work extra hard in the next two days to remember the truth it had taken him most of his life to learn — that what he felt for Dean, what he gave to Dean and what Dean gave him in return was not a sin, and any God who would disagree was not worth believing in. 

~o0o~

Gabriel cornered Cas in the galley shortly after takeoff. “Holy fucking hell, bro. Where did you find him? A GQ cover?” 

Cas grinned. “A garage actually. My car needed an oil change, and my regular mechanic had retired to Florida.” He added a splash of whiskey to one of the the coffees he was preparing. Dean was doing his best to hide it, but he clearly disliked flying a lot more than he had let on. He’d spent most of takeoff gripping his armrests with white knuckles and humming what sounded like Metallica under his breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel chuckled. “If my mechanic looked like that, my car would break down every day.” 

“Well, fortunately he asked me out, saving my car and my bank account.”

“How long ago was this?” 

“Two months, give or take.”

“Mmm. So you’re still in the fuck-like-bunnies stage of the relationship. How is he?”

“Gabe,” Cas said warningly, a rare blush warming his face. 

“Cassie,” Gabe countered, deadpan, then immediately switched to a pleading tone. “Come on. Let me live vicariously. My sex life is nonexistent at the moment.” 

Cas frowned. “You and Kali are …”

“Taking separate vacations for a while. Yeah. Nobody’s actually said the D word yet, but it’s coming.” Gabriel’s tone was deceptively casual. A stranger might have thought he really didn’t give a damn that his marriage was falling apart, but Cas knew his brother well enough to see the pain in his eyes. 

He touched Gabriel’s arm and said gently, “I’m sorry, Gabe.” 

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, and for a moment he let the devil-may-care mask fall away, his true self showing through, raw and fragile and a much better person than most people realized. “Yeah, me too.” Then he reached his quota of emotional vulnerability for the time being and shrugged off Cas’s hand. “But enough about me. You were about to tell me if your supermodel grease monkey boyfriend is any good between the sheets.” 

“Best I’ve ever had,” Cas said with a shit eating grin. “And that’s all I have to say on the subject.”   



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: In this chapter a character expresses extremely homophobic views. Obviously these statements do not reflect my own opinions in any way, and I wouldn't have included them in the story unless they were essential to the plot. 
> 
> Also, Nick is basically Lucifer. I just can't see devout Catholic parents naming their child after the devil.

The man waiting for them on the steps of the church was definitely a Novak. Dean could see the resemblance right away, but all the best parts of Cas were missing. The dark hair was slicked down with gel and severely styled, and the eyes were more gray than blue, lacking the depths of humor, curiosity, and kindness that made Cas’s gaze so piercing. Everything about this man was cold, hard, and polished like a marble statue. 

“Michael,” Cas said flatly. It might have been a greeting or just a statement. He already looked exhausted, and he was gripping Dean’s hand and Grace’s leash like lifelines. 

“Who is _he_?” Michael demanded, jerking his chin toward Dean without looking at him. 

“My boyfriend,” Cas said just as he had promised he would, and despite the circumstances, Dean felt a warm thrill of pride at hearing Cas lay claim to him like that. “Dean Winchester, meet Michael Novak, my eldest brother.” 

Dean didn’t bother to offer his hand or even say anything. He knew it would be ignored. 

“No,” Michael said with the finality of a judge’s gavel. “No, this is unacceptable, Castiel. What you do in private is your business, but you will not flaunt your perverted lifestyle at my father’s funeral. He needs to leave.” He still refused to look at Dean as though not fully acknowledging his presence would make it easier to get rid of him. 

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand hard, and Dean squeezed back, reassuring Cas that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Come on, Mike,” Gabriel began placatingly. 

“No,” Michael cut him off. “This was not part of our deal.” 

“You mean the deal where you _allow_ me to mourn my father provided I do it on _your_ terms?” Cas’s voice was perfectly steady, but where their shoulders touched Dean could feel him trembling. “I don’t need your permission to be here, Michael, and neither does Dean. He is as much a part of this family as your wife or Hannah’s husband or Asriel’s girlfriend. How long have they been living together out of wedlock by the way? Isn’t _that_ a sin? Did you allow _her_ through the door?” 

“It is not the same,” Michael hissed, obviously struggling to keep his voice down. He was flushing red with anger now, and it made him look more human but also less handsome. “Be reasonable, Castiel.” 

“I am perfectly reasonable. Give me one good _reason_ why Dean can’t be here. We promise not to have sex inside the church.” 

For a second Dean thought that Michael was going to hit Cas, and he tensed up, ready to step in. He didn’t know much about fighting, but years of protecting Sam from their dad’s drunken rages had taught him how to take a punch. 

Then a new voice interrupted. “There a problem here?” 

The man coming up the steps didn’t look like someone you’d want to meet in a dark alley, but it wasn’t the leather biker jacket, the death metal band shirt, or the snake tattoo climbing his neck that really made him seem dangerous. It was his eyes. They were cold like Michael’s but with a much sharper intelligence behind them. He seemed to be mentally dissecting the whole world, searching for weaknesses to exploit. 

“Stay out of this, Nicholas,” Michael snapped. “Jesus, you couldn’t even wear a suit?” 

“And miss a chance to piss off you _and_ Naomi at the same time? Hey, Gabe.” 

Gabriel just nodded warily. 

“And is that Baby Cassie? My God, you got tall. And good looking.”

“Hello, Nick,” Cas said awkwardly. 

Nick’s calculating gaze lingered silently on Dean a moment longer than was polite, and Dean got the distinct impression that he was figuring out how to get rid of the body. Then he looked down at Dean and Cas’s joined hands, and a mischievous smile spread over his face without ever touching his cold eyes. “Ah,” he said softly. “I see.” 

As he brushed past Cas, Grace made a rumbling noise deep in her throat, but Nick ignored her. He slung an arm over Michael’s shoulders and said, “Okay, here’s the deal, bro. You and I both know that I am not tactless enough to show up drunk to my own father’s funeral, but I’m a pretty good actor, and most of the people in there” — he tipped his head toward the church — “think I’m capable of anything. So either Cassie’s friend stays, or I go make an ass of myself in front of half of Boston. Your choice.” 

Michael shook off his brother’s arm violently, directed one venomous glare at Dean, and walked into the church with as much dignity in retreat as he could muster.  
  
“Thank you, Nick,” Cas said quietly, but he seemed less grateful than worried that not showing proper gratitude would have consequences. 

“Don’t mention it. Always a pleasure to put Michael in his place. You.” Nick pointed a finger at Dean. “You hurt my baby brother and I’ll kill you.” It was a statement of fact, not a threat, and he didn’t bother to ask if Dean understood before he followed Michael inside. 

Once he was out of sight, Grace finally stopped growling. 

~o0o~ 

Cas slumped back against the wall of the church’s men’s room, his stomach still queasy but mercifully empty. Grace immediately began nuzzling and licking him, whining her concern, and he raised a shaking hand to scratch behind her ears.

“You dizzy at all?” Dean asked, kneeling in front of Cas and gently cleaning his face with a damp paper towel. 

“No. Just a small panic attack.” Thankfully. A different kind of attack could have forced him to go back to the hotel, and he would have expended all that effort standing up to Michael for nothing. Not that anything he’d said had made a difference. No, it was Nick’s blackmail that had gotten them through the door which would only reinforce the family’s belief that Nick and Cas were the same — black sheep, rebels, sinners. 

“Here.” Dean put a paper cup in Cas’s hand. “Drink.” 

His hands were still shaking so badly that he almost spilled the water all over his pants, but Dean caught it in time and wordlessly held it to Cas’s lips instead. It should have been at least a little humiliating, being cleaned and fed like a child, but it was Dean, so Cas just felt safe and … loved? 

He desperately wanted to call it that. Sometimes he was almost sure he saw love in Dean’s eyes, felt it in his worshipful touch and his hungry kisses, but Dean had yet to say it out loud, and Cas couldn’t bring himself to say it first. He’d done that once before, and there was nothing worse than making that leap and finding no one there to catch you.  
  
He swished the water around his mouth and spat it into the toilet. “So,” he said to distract himself from his uneasy stomach and uneasier thoughts, “Nick and Michael are talking again?” 

“Sort of,” Gabriel said. He was leaning against the sinks, watching Dean take care of Cas with a tender and slightly envious expression on his face. “We’ll see how long it lasts. They called a truce when Dad started going downhill, but now that he’s gone, I give it a few more hours at most.” 

“Apart from you two, does anyone in this family actually like each other?” Dean asked wryly. 

Cas and Gabriel both laughed humorlessly. 

“Not really,” Gabriel said, “but none of us hate each other quite as much as Mike and Nick do. Believe it or not, they used to be best friends. They had a falling out not long after our mother died, and now they’re like those divorced couples who can’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without going nuclear.” 

Cas rested his head against Grace’s warm, soft body and gave in to the urge to close his eyes just for a moment. God, he wanted to go home, to curl up in his own bed with a very naked Dean, or dig in his garden with the bees dancing around him. He didn’t want to miss the funeral. He just wanted it to be over already. 

“Cas?” Dean said worriedly, and Cas felt gentle fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry for the way Michael treated you. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“Hey. You didn’t _put_ me anywhere. I volunteered for this, remember? And you did warn me, so none of this is on you. Cas, look at me.”

He opened his eyes and looked into Dean’s, and there it was again, that warm, bright something that might, _might_ be … 

“Does it seem like I’m regretting this?” Dean said, and Cas had to shake his head. “Exactly, cause I’m not. I am right where I want to be, and that’s wherever you are.” 

Cas abruptly scooted forward across the floor and kissed Dean. It was relatively short and chaste since they were in a semi-public place where the majority of the people who might walk in on them would be less than forgiving, but he tried to put a lot into the kiss, to say “thank you” and “I love you” and “please can I keep you forever”. He had no way of knowing if Dean got the message, but for a moment he let himself believe that the way Dean’s mouth responded to his was trying to say the same things. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of child abuse.  
> But this one is mostly fluff and smut.

Cas woke up screaming and kept on screaming because it was such a relief. In the dream he hadn't been able to make a sound. The harder he tried, the thicker the silence became until he was suffocating in it. 

Strong arms wrapped around him, and for a moment he panicked even more, thrashing and fighting the embrace, but then a sleep roughened voice murmured in his ear, "Sh, sh, sh. It's just me, babe. You're safe." _Dean_. He immediately burrowed into the other man's chest, screams giving way to ragged sobs. Dean coaxed him back down into the pillows, rubbing his back and making soothing nonsense sounds interspersed with the occasional "It's okay" or "I've got you, baby." 

A familiar wet nose snuffled at his neck, and then Grace settled in behind him so he was cradled between her and Dean, surrounded on all sides with warmth and safety. Slowly he relaxed, every shuddering sob expelling a little more of the tension from his body until he lay still in Dean's arms, feeling wide awake and more exhausted than he'd been when he went to bed. 

"Sorry I woke you," he mumbled into Dean's t-shirt. 

Dean sighed, his breath ruffling Cas's hair. "Cas, you have got to stop apologizing to me. We made a deal, remember? I deal with your stuff, and you deal with mine. That's what being a couple is all about." 

"Yes, but these past few days it seems to be mostly going one way. You've been so good to me, and I —"

"We're not keeping score, babe," Dean cut him off gently but firmly. "That's not how this works. Everyone's allowed to be a little bit selfish sometimes, and this is definitely one of your times. You just lost your dad. You're tired, and you're stressed, and your family is making this ten times harder than it needs to be, and I'm sure seeing your stepmother today stirred up all kinds of shit you haven't thought about in a while." 

That was true. Naomi had thoroughly ignored Cas and Dean, not even glancing in their general direction, but just being in the same room as her had brought it all rushing back. Living in constant fear of the next punishment. That frantic, subconscious drive to try harder, be better, be perfect and maybe he would be safe. But nothing he did was good enough. There was something wrong at the core of his being, a flawed design. 

Another little shudder ran through him, and Dean held him tighter. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Part of him did want to, but ever since he was a child he'd had this vague superstition that putting nightmares into words made them more real, gave them the power to reach into the waking world and hurt him. He knew it wasn't rational or healthy, but he couldn't get past it. So instead of answering, he kissed Dean. 

It was hard and hungry and demanding. Dean responded instantly, but ever the gentleman, he had to make sure this was really what Cas wanted before he surrendered to his own desire. "Cas, you don't …" He groaned as Cas attacked his neck, biting hard enough to leave marks, but he rallied. "You don't have to do this just for my benefit."

"I'm not." To prove it, Cas shoved Dean onto his back and straddled his hips, grinding his own erection against the already sizable lump in Dean's boxers. "I'm being selfish. Want you, Dean. Need you. Please." 

Dean's hands came up to grip Cas's hips, encouraging him to move faster. "I'm all yours, baby. Whatever you need." 

Armed with that blanket permission, Cas rutted against Dean, chasing his own pleasure shamelessly, but it wasn't enough. He needed to be closer to Dean, as close as he could get. 

He sat up and pulled off his shirt. Catching on quickly, Dean did the same and then flipped them over so he could strip Cas of his underwear. "Should I get the lube?" he asked.  
  
Cas nodded. As he watched Dean get up and rummage through one of their suitcases, his eyes were drawn to the prominent tent in the other man's boxers, and a desire he hadn't felt in a long time woke up in his belly. He'd only done that once with an actual person, and it hadn't been the greatest experience, but he was sure that Dean would be different. 

"Something wrong?" Dean asked as he joined Cas on the bed again. (Grace had long since moved to the floor, annoyed with the way the humans kept jiggling the mattress.)

"No. Just … I want … I want to try something new." 

"Okay. What?" 

Suddenly Cas was nervous. He wasn't worried that it would hurt. He trusted Dean. But what if Dean didn't want to? What if Cas's lack of experience in this area made it less satisfying for Dean? 

"It's okay, baby," Dean said, rubbing Cas's thigh. "You can tell me." He leaned in closer and whispered in Cas's ear. "I'll do whatever you want, but you have to say it out loud." 

Even though he couldn't see Dean's face, he could feel the other man smirking as he threw Cas's own words back at him, and somehow that broke through his nerves. "I want you inside me," he said hoarsely. "Make love to me, Dean. Please?"

~o0o~

Dean swore his heart actually skipped a beat. While he would have happily bottomed for Cas for the rest of his life, he couldn't deny that the idea of being buried deep inside that lithe, muscular body, feeling Cas clench around him, hearing him moan when Dean hit the sweet spot, was very, _very_ hot. 

"Of course, baby," he said, kissing the skin just behind Cas's ear and then biting it a little. He was rewarded with a gasp and a mewl of pleasure. He soothed the bite with his tongue, then sat up on his knees so he could see Cas's face. "You'll tell me if anything hurts, right?" 

Cas nodded. 

"You promise?" 

"I promise." 

"And you know you can change your mind at any time."  
  
"Dean —"  
  
"I mean it, Cas. _Any_ time." 

"Dean! I trust you." Cas sat up and pulled Dean into a scorching kiss. "I trust you," he repeated, breathing the words into Dean's mouth now. "Now will you please shut up and fuck me?" 

Dean's body was definitely on board with that idea, but he knew Cas didn't actually mean "get your dick in me right this second", and no way was he gonna rush this and risk hurting Cas. Cas had never, not once, caused Dean any pain. He was the most patient, thorough, attentive lover Dean had ever had (not that there was a whole lot of competition, but still), and Dean was determined to do no less for Cas. "Which position do you like?" he asked. "Hands and knees? Face to face?" 

"Face to face." Cas laid back down and stretched like a cat preparing itself to be petted. "I want to watch you come inside me." 

Dean's cock throbbed as it tried to get even harder, a physical impossibility at this point. He quickly shucked his boxers and covered his fingers in a generous amount of lube. Cas obligingly spread his legs wide, and Dean knew that he would never need to watch porn again. He could just close his eyes and picture _that_. 

In the next several minutes, Dean learned two things about Bottom Cas. He was just as shamelessly loud as Top Cas, and he was much less patient. Dean was only two fingers deep when Cas started shoving his ass down on Dean's hand and groaning, "More. Oh, more, please." 

"I'm gonna remind you of this the next time you feel inclined to make me beg," Dean chuckled.

"Fuck you," Cas retorted, the most coherent sentence he'd uttered since Dean got the first finger into him. 

"Okay. I'll stop and we can trade places." 

"Don't you dare."

Dean laughed again and turned his head to kiss the jut of Cas's hip, completely ignoring the flushed and dripping cock inches away begging for his attention. 

When he was satisfied that Cas was stretched wide enough to make the sex as painless as possible, he withdrew his fingers and smeared more lube on his cock. More than necessary probably, but Cas clearly hadn't done this in a long time if ever, and he wasn't taking any chances.

Cas's eyes were open now, his pupils blown so wide that only a thin ring of blue showed, and he was looking at Dean with perfect, unconditional trust. In that moment Dean felt so completely, deeply, painfully in love with this man that he wasn't at all surprised when the words popped out of his mouth without his permission. "I love you, Cas." 

Cas's mouth opened in a little o of surprise, the same face he'd made when Dean first asked him out, and just like then, Dean was suddenly sure that he'd made a terrible mistake. But then a smile spread over Cas's face like a sunrise, and he said the five most beautiful words Dean had ever heard. "I love you too, Dean." 

Dean laughed from sheer happiness, and then he kissed Cas deep and slow, and then he finally slid inside Cas for real. Everything else disappeared as they moved together, getting as close as was humanly possible and pulling away only so they could feel that joining all over again. Cas was moaning Dean's name like it was the only word he knew, except it wasn't because every now and then he would combine it with "Love you". As he stuttered closer and closer to climax, he dropped the "you" and just alternated between "Dean" and "Love". Dean wasn't much more articulate, but he did manage a "Love you so much, baby" which he thought was pretty impressive since he was about five seconds away from the most intense orgasm of his life at the time. 

When he came down, he was looking into sex drunk blue eyes. He realized he was still on top of Cas and basically crushing the other man since he didn't have the strength to hold himself up on his arms anymore, but when he tried to roll off, Cas clung to him and mumbled, "No. Stay right where you are." 

Slurred or not, it was an order, and Dean happily obeyed. He could feel both their heartbeats, and Cas's skin was almost feverishly hot against his, and he never wanted to move again. He buried his face in the curve of Cas's neck and breathed the scent of him — sweat and sex and fresh earth after rain. "Cas?" 

"Mmm." It was more a contented purr than an answer, but Dean decided it was close enough.  
  
"I love you." 

"Mmm. I love you too." 

Yeah, that was never gonna get old. 


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey, what's this?" 

Sam looked up from the pile of clothes that he was methodically turning into two piles — to pack and to donate. Dean was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of one of the numerous boxes of random crap that had, until an hour ago, been stuffed into the back of Sam's closet, and he was holding an unlabeled VHS tape. "Don't know," Sam said. "Play it and find out." 

"You sure? What if it's a sex tape?"  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. "I've never _made_ a sex tape, Dean. It's probably one of those home videos Charlie made when we were kids." 

The sound of the front door opening and closing came from downstairs, and then a male voice called, "Dean?" 

"Up here, babe," Dean called back. "In Sam's room." 

"You gave Cas a key?" Sam wasn't uncomfortable with the idea, just surprised. Clearly the relationship was out of the getting-to-know-each-other stage and moving deeper into long term commitment territory by the day. He hoped that was a good thing and not a sign that Dean was letting his impulsive nature get the better of him. 

"Yeah. Sorry," Dean said, misinterpreting Sam's tone. "Probably should have asked you first." 

"No, it's fine. Cas is cool. I trust him. Besides, it won't be my house for much longer." 

Sam didn't miss the slightly pained expression that crossed Dean's face at the reminder. He'd been seeing that look more and more as the wedding drew closer, and he knew they needed to talk about it, but he couldn't find a way to broach the subject without making Dean feel like he was being accused of disloyalty.  
  
Then the bedroom door opened, and Sam watched in wonder as every trace of unhappiness vanished from his brother. No one, not even Benny, had ever put _that_ look on Dean's face. He looked five years younger. And the matching adoration in Cas's smile, the way his eyes found Dean's before bothering to notice anything else … For the first time in his life Sam entertained the possibility that maybe, just maybe Dean had found someone who was actually worthy of him. 

"Wow," Cas said, tearing his eyes away from Dean long enough to take in the piles of clothes, books, and other miscellaneous possessions covering the floor and the bed. "It looks like —" 

"A tornado hit?" Sam said. He nudged Grace away from the clothes he was planning to keep and let her make herself at home on the donate pile. "Yeah. Jess gets here on Friday, but our new place won't be ready for another three weeks, so we're trying to make some room for her stuff, and apparently _I_ have a lot more stuff than I realized." 

"He has a sex tape," Dean said with no context whatsoever. 

"Dude! It's not a sex tape!" Sam snapped as Cas's eyebrows rose. "I'll prove it." He snatched the tape from his brother and stuck it in the VCR slot of the old TV on top of the dresser. 

It took a couple minutes of fiddling with the remote to make anything happen, and the process was somewhat hindered by Dean and Sam grabbing the thing back and forth between them. 

"Your big Sasquatch hands are probably mashing all the buttons at once. How can you even see what you're doing?" 

"Oh, as opposed to your delicate, ladylike hands, jerkface?" 

Cas perched on the one free corner of the bed and watched the brotherly bickering with an amused/contented smile on his face. 

It wasn't a sex tape. In hindsight Sam almost wished it had been. It was a video of his eighteenth birthday party. They spent an enjoyable fifteen minutes pointing out who was who for Cas's benefit and laughing at Charlie's wildlife-documentary-style narration. At one point the camera had been left on the kitchen counter for a while, and they were staring at an empty room. Sam was trying to convince the temperamental remote to fast forward when there were voices from off screen. He instantly recognized the warm baritone with the Southern accent, smooth as good whiskey, and he felt Dean stiffen beside him. 

_"Come on, darlin',"_ the ghostly voice said pleadingly. _"This doesn't have to be the end of everything. We can make this work."_

Sam stopped trying to fast forward and started trying to turn the TV off, but the remote had stopped working altogether. 

_"No."_ Dean flinched at the sound of his own voice, sharp and angry. _"No, we can't. You know why? Because it didn't even occur to you to ask me before you did this. You didn't think for a second that maybe this was a decision we should make together. As a couple. Or worse, you did think about it, and you decided to go behind my back anyway. You have no right to turn my life upside down with no warning and expect me to just adapt. I put up with that shit from my dad for years. I don't have to take it from you. I don't have to make it work."_

Sam gave up on the remote, dove across the room, and stabbed the power button on the TV itself. "Sorry," he said into the horrible, heavy silence that followed. "I had no idea that was on there." 

"Neither did I. Didn't even know it was recorded." In contrast to the voice on the tape, Dean's real voice was small and soft. "Cas, I —"

"You don't owe me an explanation, Dean," Cas interrupted. "If you _want_ to tell me about it, I'm happy to listen, but it won't change things between us. And if you'd rather leave it in the past, that's your right." He gently lifted Dean's chin and looked him in the eye. "I don't need to know everything about you to know that I love you and I trust you. Whatever you decide, we'll be okay." 

In that moment Sam kind of fell in love with Cas a little bit too. 

Dean nodded, gave Cas a weak but grateful smile, and said, still in that very quiet voice that Sam knew meant he was fighting tears, "I, um … I need some air." He was halfway out the door when he noticed that Grace was following him. He gave her a bewildered look and glanced at Cas, clearly expecting him to call her back. 

"It's all right," Cas said. "She seems to think you need her more than I do right now, and I agree." 

"But … the stairs." 

"I'll be careful. And Sam's here. I'll be fine." When the door had closed behind Dean and Grace, Cas looked at Sam whose puzzlement must have showed on his face. "I have an inner ear problem," he explained with only a slight trace of awkwardness. "I get vertigo and fainting spells." His mouth quirked in a wry smile. "You didn't find it odd that Grace follows me absolutely everywhere?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "I thought she was just really attached to you." It occurred to him that there was a lot he didn't know about his potential brother-in-law. This was the first time they'd talked one on one since the obligatory hurt-my-brother-and-die speech. But Cas was right. You didn't need to know every detail about a person in order to trust them. 

Cas chuckled. "Well, she's that too. The funny thing is she usually doesn't like my boyfriends for that exact reason. She gets jealous."

"But not with Dean?" 

"No. I think she senses that I'm happier when he's around. Happier than I've ever …" He trailed off and ducked his head shyly, his cheeks tinged with pink. 

"He is too you know," Sam said quietly. "Happier, I mean. I've never seen him so happy. Thank you for that." 

Cas lifted his head and met Sam's eyes. "I should be thanking _you_ ," he said. "For being so accepting of Dean, and of me by extension." 

"Oh. Dude, it's not a big deal." 

"Exactly." Those piercing blue eyes bored into Sam, and he found it impossible to look away. "You love Dean. Therefore you want him to be happy, and if I make him happy, then my gender is irrelevant. To you it really is that simple. To me the very simplicity of your acceptance is …" Cas seemed to search for the right word and settled on "… miraculous. So thank you for making this so easy for us, Sam. You will never know how much that means to me."  
  
Sam had no idea what to say to that, and fortunately Cas didn't seem to expect an answer, so Sam started emptying the boxes of junk and filling them with books instead. When Cas wordlessly began to help him, it felt perfectly natural, like they'd been friends for years.


	15. Chapter 15

Cas found Dean laying under a tree in the backyard, his head pillowed on Grace's side while the dog dozed. His eyes were still a little red, but he seemed calmer now, and when Cas stretched out on the grass beside him, he immediately shifted closer, resting his head on the other man's chest and letting Cas have the dog pillow. They laid there in silence for almost twenty minutes, just basking in the warmth of the late afternoon. 

Dean spoke first. "Are you sure you want the whole story?" 

"Only if you want to tell it." 

"Yeah, but … I mean it's not gonna be weird? Hearing about my …"

"Previous relationships? I already knew there had been others, Dean. It's even occurred to me that you may have been in love before. Like I said, that doesn't change or diminish what we have, and I don't want you to feel that there are parts of yourself you can't share with me. I love you completely." Cas carded his fingers through Dean's hair while he talked, and he felt Dean relax a little more with every word and every touch. 

"His name was Benny," Dean said quietly, "and at the time I thought I was in love. Now I think I was just … comfortable. There was no real spark, no passion between us, but he was good to me. He made me feel safe, and I wasn't gonna give that up to go looking for something that might only exist in Disney movies." 

He fell silent again, and Cas thought maybe he had changed his mind about telling the rest, but finally he continued. "So we stayed together for almost five years, and I had pretty well convinced myself that we were gonna last forever, and then at Sam's birthday party Benny tells me that he's decided to join the army. Actually he had already done it, and they don't exactly let you change your mind just cause your boyfriend throws a bitch fit." 

Dean sat up suddenly and hugged his knees to his chest. Cas stayed lying down, honoring his unspoken request for space. "I wanted to be proud of him," Dean said, his voice getting a little choked. "I really did, but I just felt so …"

"Abandoned?" Cas suggested when Dean seemed unable to find the right word. 

"Yeah. And I already kind of felt that way with Sam leaving for college, and I couldn't … It was just too much all at once. I couldn't process it. So when he asked me to wait for him, I said … Well, you heard most of what I said." 

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, wiping away a few tears. Cas thought that was the end of the story, but again he was wrong. "That was the last time we talked for a while," Dean went on, his voice steadier but his expression still pained. "Benny left, and I started dating this guy, Aaron, but that only lasted about a month. I was still hung up on Benny, and Aaron … He was a really sweet guy. He deserved to be more than somebody's rebound. And then …" Dean gave a short, huffing laugh that didn't sound remotely happy. "Then Benny came home on leave, and damned if I didn't jump right back in bed with him. Didn't even need to get drunk first." 

Dean was staring at the next door neighbor's hyacinths, but Cas had a feeling he was seeing something else. He was lost in memories, talking more to himself than to Cas. "That became the pattern for a while. He'd come home, we'd spend a few days together, mostly in bed, and then he'd leave again. I guess it was a friends with benefits kind of thing except I wasn't sleeping with anyone else. I was just waiting for him, exactly what I said I wouldn't do. I think if he had asked again, I would have said yes, but he never did, and I felt like enough of a hypocrite for sleeping with him. I couldn't beg him to come back to me when I was the one who ended it in the first place. Well," he amended, "I could, but I wasn't going to. And then …" Dean's voice cracked again. "Then he died." 

Cas pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth falling open. He wasn't sure how he'd expected the story to end, but that definitely wasn't it. "He was killed in action?" he asked. 

But Dean was shaking his head even before the question was fully formed. He had clearly corrected this assumption more than once. "No. Car accident. He was driving here from the airport, coming home for Christmas, and a tractor trailer hit a patch of black ice, spun out, took three cars through the guardrail with it. They said his neck was broken, so he probably died instantly." This was all said in a flat, toneless voice. 

Cas sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean from behind, resting his head on the other man's broad back. He didn't say anything because he had no idea what to say, so he just offered the comfort of a human presence. That was enough. Dean pulled Cas's arms tighter around him as he continued, the words coming haltingly now like forcing the last dregs of pus from a wound.  
  
"I was … I was really messed up for a while. Once the shock wore off and it sank in that he was really gone, I … Well, I drank. A lot. I knew it was unhealthy in every possible way. Hell, I'd seen first hand what it could do to a person, and the last thing I wanted was to turn into my dad, but I kind of started to understand why he ended up the way he did after Mom died. When I was drunk, it didn't hurt so much. Course Sam and Charlie and Bobby and Jodi weren't gonna let me drink my life away in peace. They kept trying to help me no matter how much of an asshole I was to them, but it wasn't until …" 

Dean shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't pull away from Cas. If anything he clung on tighter like he was afraid that _Cas_ was going to pull away. "One night I got blackout drunk and woke up in bed with a stranger. Some guy I didn't even remember meeting. That had never happened before, and it … it scared the shit out of me. I mean literally _anything_ could have happened. I could have been …" He shivered, and Cas held him as tight as was possible without hurting him.  
  
"Anyway," Dean said, abandoning that line of thought quickly, "I guess that was rock bottom for me because after that I realized I needed to get my shit together. I quit drinking, moved back in with Bobby and Jodi for a while. It was still rough, but I tried not to take it out on the people who cared about me, and things got a lot better once Sam finished school and moved back here. Fixing up this place kept me busy when I wasn't at work. Plus living with your brother is much less pathetic than living with your parents when you're almost thirty. For a while Sam and Charlie kept trying to set me up with their friends, but I just kept saying no until they gave up. Not cause I was still in love with Benny. I just didn't think it was fair to get involved with someone while I was still figuring myself out." 

He twisted around to look at Cas, and his eyes were wet, but his smile was genuine. "And then I met you, and I …" He blushed. "Shit, this is gonna sound so sappy, but I kind of feel like I've been waiting for you my whole life." 

"You're right. That _is_ sappy," Cas chuckled. He rested his chin on Dean's shoulder so that their noses were almost touching. "But I feel the same."

It was difficult to say who initiated the kiss. They were so close together already, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. It started off sweet, tender, and almost (but not quite) chaste. Cas was cautious, letting Dean take the lead, unsure what he was in the mood for after that emotionally draining conversation. But when Dean suddenly tumbled them over into the grass, pinning Cas beneath him and kissing like he was drowning and Cas was oxygen, it took exactly zero seconds for Cas to get with the program.

"We should probably take this inside," Dean groaned as Cas wriggled under him, not trying to reverse their positions, just seeking some relief from the increasingly urgent situation in his pants. "Before poor old Mrs. Reynolds comes out to water her flowers and finds out way more than she ever wanted to know about the mechanics of gay sex." 

"What about Sam?" 

"What about him? My room has a door. And a lock. And a bed." He punctuated each item on the list with a scrape of his teeth against Cas's pulse.  
  
"Yes," Cas gasped, his neck arching involuntarily, pressing harder against Dean's mouth. "Yes, that all sounds wonderful right now." 

~o0o~

When Sam took a break from cleaning and went in search of food, he found Grace laying in the hall outside Dean's door. "Did they mean to lock you out?" he wondered aloud. 

He was about to knock when he heard a ragged moan overlapping with a hoarse cry of "Dean. Oh, fuck, Dean." He snatched his hand back. 

Grace gave him a look of weary resignation as if to say, _They do this_ all _the time._

"I'll bet," Sam muttered, then realized he was having a conversation with a dog. Oh, well. There were crazier things he could do. "You want to wait downstairs with me?" he asked. "There's food and you won't have to listen to _that_." The noises on the other side of the door were getting progressively louder with every passing second. 

Grace perked up at the sound of the word "food" and happily followed him to the kitchen. 


	16. Chapter 16

There was no better way to wake up than warm and naked, pressed against the equally warm and naked body of the man you loved. Dean could happily have stayed like that for the rest of eternity. Unfortunately his bladder had other ideas, and since his room didn't have an en suite bathroom like Cas's did, that necessitated the putting on of pants and, after a glance in the mirror, a t-shirt to hide the hickeys blossoming on his chest. He couldn't do anything about the one on his neck, and it wasn't like Sam didn't know what they'd been up to behind a locked door for three hours, but the attempt at modesty would be appreciated nevertheless. 

Cas was still sound asleep, half his face mashed into the pillow. The visible half was crinkled in an adorable frown as though his dreams were mildly confusing. _Oh, I am so gone,_ Dean thought as he tucked the blankets more snugly around his boyfriend, making sure he would be warm enough even without Dean's body heat. _There's no point in fighting it. He's the only one I'm ever gonna want._ The realization probably would have scared him more if his brain wasn't swimming in a groggy post-coital nap fog. 

On his way back from the bathroom, he caught the scent of bacon and detoured to the kitchen. Sam was standing at the stove, Grace hovering hopefully beside him. He smirked as his rumpled brother came shuffling in. "Worked up an appetite, huh?" 

"Bite me," Dean muttered, grabbing a glass from the dish drainer. 

"Looks like Cas already took care of that." 

Dean didn't bother with a witty retort, choosing instead to focus his energies on locating the orange juice. 

Sam transferred the perfectly crisped bacon to a paper towel, threw some more in the pan, then said in a more serious tone, "Can I ask you something?"

"Long as it's not who's on top." 

"Dude. Gross. I don't want to know." 

"Then yeah. Shoot." 

But now Sam hesitated. "Okay, this is gonna sound … bad, but I don't mean it as an accusation. Really. I just want an honest answer, okay?" 

Dean paused with a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. "O…kay."

"Sometimes when I talk about the wedding, you get this weird look on your face. You look sad or … or scared. What's that about?" 

Dean's stomach did a back flip, but he put the bacon in his mouth anyway to buy some time. Grace, who had been watching its progress avidly, sighed. 

Shit. He'd thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it around Sam, but the kid had always been good at reading people, one of the things that made him such a good lawyer, and he knew Dean better than anyone. 

"Is it about Jess?" Sam pressed when Dean was silent for too long. "You two have always gotten along really well. Is it this thing with her parents? You're afraid that I'll get caught in the crossfire?" 

Dean could hear his brother getting more worked up with every word, so he quickly swallowed and said, "Sam, stop. I have no problem with Jess. I love her almost as much as you do, and yeah, her family kind of sucks, but that's not her fault, and I think by now she's proved that if she has to choose sides she'll always choose you. You two … You're perfect for each other, and I _am_ happy for you. I really am." 

The fear faded from Sam's eyes, and Dean hoped he would be comforted enough to let the rest of it go. Like Grace, he hoped in vain. "Okay," Sam said as he flipped the bacon. "So what's the problem?" 

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, realizing too late that they were covered in bacon grease. Oh, well. He needed a shower anyway. "It's nothing. It's my own stupid problem. You don't need to worry about it." 

"Bullshit," Sam snapped, slamming the spatula down on the edge of the pan hard enough to make Dean jump. "When are you gonna get it through your head, Dean? This is not a one way street. Just cause I'm the little brother" — Dean snorted at the irony, but Sam ignored him — "that doesn't mean I don't get to look out for you just like you look out for me. And as for worrying me, I'm gonna worry _more_ the longer you refuse to tell me what's wrong, so will you please just get over yourself and talk to me already?" 

Dean took a sip of his juice to hide a smile. He felt weirdly happy and content for someone who'd just been yelled at, and Sam did have a point. Clearly he was shit at hiding his feelings, so he might as well talk about them. Two heart to hearts in one day. When did his life turn into a chick flick?

"I … don't want to live alone," he said, staring fixedly at his bare feet. "And I don't think I can rent out your room to a stranger. That would just feel … wrong. And I can't sell the house and move to a smaller place. Except for Bobby and Jodi's, this is the only place that's ever felt like home, but without you, it … It won't." His eyes drifted to the mural above the sink, the two little boys building their sandcastle. They'd worked so hard on it, and the next day it was gone, washed away by the tide.

Sam took the bacon off the fire and gave Dean his undivided attention. "What about Cas?"

"Ask him to move in with me you mean?" Dean had actually thought about it, but … "No. He's happy in his place, and it's right next to the store, and it's … That's _his_ home. He won't want to give it up any more than I want to sell this place. And if I ask, he'll either do it just to make me happy, and then _he'll_ be unhappy, or he'll say no but he'll feel bad for saying no. Either way, I'm not putting him in that position." 

Sam's mouth twitched. "I notice you didn't say anything about it being too soon." 

Dean felt his cheeks grow warm, but he didn't answer. He especially didn't say, _I would propose tomorrow if I could be absolutely sure that it wouldn't scare him away,_ and he was very glad he hadn't when a tousle haired, blue eyed face appeared at the kitchen door. 

"Ooh. Bacon," Cas said, making a beeline for it and Dean at the same time. 

Dean wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard on his slow, careful way down the stairs, but Cas didn't mention it, just munched happily on his snack while insinuating himself into Dean's arms like a sleepy toddler. When he bent down to feed Grace a piece of bacon, Dean exchanged a look with Sam over his head. 

_I'll be fine_ , he mouthed silently. 

Sam looked from Dean to Cas and back, then mouthed, _I know._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of homophobia.

"So," Dean said while they were laying in bed one night, sweaty and sated. He said it in a tone Cas had come to recognize, a tone that meant Dean had an idea, and he was really, really hoping Cas would agree to it, but he was trying to sound casual and detached so Cas wouldn't feel pressured to agree if he didn't want to. "We're having a little graduation slash welcome home party for Jess this Saturday. And by little I mean, like, ten people max. You interested?" 

Cas felt the other man stiffen in shock when he said after only a moment's thought, "Yeah. Okay." 

"You sure? Cause you don't have to. You don't owe me for Boston if that's what you're thinking." 

"It's not. I told you, Dean. I want to meet your family, and a small, informal gathering like this seems like the perfect oppor—"

Dean kissed him. Not a quick kiss, but a deep, thorough expression of joy, gratitude, and love. 

"You didn't expect it to be that easy, did you?" Cas said breathlessly when his tongue was free for talking again. 

"Oh, I was fully prepared to resort to bribery." 

"Mmm. That sounds promising. Maybe I should have held out a little longer."

"Maybe I'll just pay up anyway," Dean purred, nudging Cas's head back and nuzzling under his jaw, "and we'll call it a reward instead of a bribe." 

Cas's body indicated that all systems were a go for round two, but before he could get too distracted, "I do have one question about this party." 

Dean stopped devouring Cas's neck and said a little nervously, "What's that?" 

Cas rubbed soothing circles on Dean's chest. "I promise your answer won't change mine, Dean. I'm coming with you regardless. I simply want to know what to expect. Will anyone there be even slightly uncomfortable with the nature of our relationship?" 

"No," Dean said quickly, and the way the tension drained out of him told Cas it was the truth. "No, they'll all be thrilled to meet the person who's been making me so happy. They won't give a crap about anything else." He claimed Cas's lips again for a moment, then murmured against them, "Trust me. They're gonna love you just like I do." 

"Well, maybe not _just_ like you do," Cas chuckled as Dean's renewed arousal poked him in the stomach. "That could get awkward." 

~o0o~

Cas really would have gone to the party regardless of Dean's family's views on homosexuality. After Boston he did owe Dean big time whatever Dean thought. But the assurance that he would only have to deal with the normal awkwardness of meeting new people and wouldn't be judged solely by his gender took a lot of the pressure off. The only part he was really worried about was meeting Dean's parents, and in the end even that went as smoothly as he could have wished. 

Jodi gave him the warmest, most motherly hug he'd experienced since his own mother was alive to hug him, and said, "Welcome to the family," with such sincerity that he had to blink away tears. 

And okay, so Bobby whispered in his ear while clapping him on the back just a little too hard, "I have guns and I'm married to the sheriff. Keep it in mind." But once that fatherly duty was dispensed with, he was as welcoming as everyone else. He showed Cas his vegetable garden, and they spent almost half an hour discussing soil acidity, planting seasons, and methods of keeping the deer and squirrels away. 

When Bobby went to man the grill, Cas wandered into the Singers' book filled living room. (Dean hadn't been exaggerating about that. It was like a library minus the organizational system.) He could hear chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen, but Dean had gone out to buy more ice, and Cas couldn't quite find the courage to join in on his own. Besides, it sounded like the conversation was currently revolving around the upcoming wedding. He would have nothing to contribute and would feel distinctly out of place. 

Grace leaned companionably against his leg, and he scratched behind her ears while he searched for an interesting book to pass the time until Dean returned. 

"Hey." 

He turned to find Sam's fiancee Jess standing behind him, holding two glasses of iced tea. He'd been introduced to her when he arrived, and she was exactly what he'd expected — tall, gorgeous, intelligent, and kind hearted. In a way she reminded him of Dean. Less shy, but she had that same genuine innocence, a pure soul shining out of her warm brown eyes. 

"They can be a little overwhelming the first time," she said, nodding towards the kitchen where it sounded like every member of the extended Singer-Winchester-Bradbury clan was talking at once. 

She held out one of the drinks, and he accepted it with a soft "Thanks." She seemed so at home here, such a natural part of the family. He'd forgotten that she must once have been in his place. 

She sat down on the couch, tucking her feet up under her comfortably, and patted the cushion next to her in invitation. "We should get to know each other, don't you think? We're going to be very nearly related in a little less than a month." 

He sat. Grace followed him but put her head in Jess's lap. The dog really had a thing for Winchesters, even almost-Winchesters. "What would you like to know about me?" he asked though he had a feeling he already knew where this conversation was going.  
  
"Well, for starters," she said, absently patting Grace, "what are your intentions towards my brother-in-law? Are you thinking long term here?" 

Her tone wasn't challenging, merely concerned. She loved Dean like a real brother, Cas realized, like Sam loved Dean, and she needed to know for her own peace of mind that his heart was in good hands. So Cas answered with total honesty. "I'm thinking forever. I mean, I'm not gonna rush into anything we're not both ready for, but I know I'll never find better. He's the one." 

She nodded and said, "Good." Then she looked him straight in the eye. "You treat him right, Cas, and you and me will get along just fine, but —" 

"If I hurt him, I'm a dead man," he finished for her. "I know." 

She smiled. "How many times have you heard that now?" 

"This makes three, but I don't mind. I'm glad so many people are willing to commit murder for Dean. That's a loyal family." He felt a twist of envy in his gut as he remembered Nick's off hand death threat. That had had nothing to do with protecting Cas and everything to do with the sadistic pleasure Nick took in inspiring fear. 

As though she'd read his mind, Jess said, "You're part of this family too now you know. Anybody ever messes with you, we got your back." 

And for some reason this time Cas really believed it. The envy drowned in a flood of warmth, and he felt a smile spread over his face. How the hell did he get so lucky? For years it had been just him and Grace with the occasional whirlwind visit from Gabriel. And he wasn't unhappy exactly. He liked his life, his store, his little house, but there was definitely something missing. A person shaped hole that none of his boyfriends seemed to adequately fill. And then, just when he'd almost resigned himself to a solitary existence, he found Dean Winchester and acquired not only a best friend and lover but a whole family into the bargain. God couldn't possibly hate him as much as some people thought. 

"Cas?" Jess said, concern in her voice. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." 

He stared at her in confusion for a moment before noticing that his face was wet. Grace nuzzled him worriedly and gave Jess a reproachful look. "It's okay," he said, raising a hand to wipe away the tears. "You didn't. I'm just … happy. Really happy. It's … It's been a long time since I had a family." 

"Oh."  
  
"They're still alive," he added quickly, seeing where her mind was going. "They just want nothing to do with me."  
  
"Because of —"

"The gay thing. Yes. They're absolutely certain that I'm going to hell." He shrugged. "For all I know, they may be right, but it doesn't matter. Dean is well worth that."

Jess looked down into the depths of her tea for a moment, then said, "Do you have any advice for dealing with disapproving parents?"  
  
Cas tilted his head, frowning in puzzlement. "Your parents don't approve of Sam?" What could they possibly disapprove of? A handsome young lawyer, kind and even tempered, completely devoted to their daughter. He was even the "right" gender if they cared about that. 

"He's not rich," Jess explained in a flat voice, "and he's never going to be. I don't care obviously. In fact, I love that he would rather take lots of pro bono cases helping abuse victims and foster kids than make partner at some big name law firm. But I can't get my parents to see it that way. And lately it seems like they'll use any excuse they can find to accuse him of not treating me right. We _both_ wanted a small wedding. We _both_ wanted to live in Sioux Falls instead of L.A. I'm not sacrificing anything here, but —" Her voice was rising with frustration, and she abruptly cut herself off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping all this on you." 

"It's fine," Cas said, reaching out to touch her shoulder in a calming gesture. "We're very nearly related, remember? I'm happy to listen whenever you need to talk. Unfortunately the only advice I can give you is something which I'm sure you already know. Living your life to please others is a very bad idea, especially when it comes to who you love, who you marry. Does Sam make you happy? Does he look at you like you're the most important person in the world?" 

She nodded without hesitation. 

"Then no one else's opinion matters. I hope your parents will come around someday, but they may not. Try not to let them get inside your head. He's a good man. You've chosen well." 

She put her cup down on the coffee table, leaned over, and hugged him, whispering, "Thank you." 

"Hey," said a gruff voice from the doorway. "Hands off my man." 

"Sorry," Jess said, releasing Cas. She didn't actually sound sorry any more than Dean actually sounded jealous. "He's just too gorgeous to resist." 

"Flattered though I am," Cas said, joining in the charade, "you're not my type. You on the other hand …" He put down his drink and stood up, putting a little extra sway in his hips as he moved towards Dean and watching the other man's eyes darken in response. "Are you doing anything tonight?" he asked jokingly, looping his arms around Dean's neck and pressing up against him shamelessly. 

"Yeah," Dean said, sliding his own arms around Cas's waist to keep him that close. "I'm doing you." 

They both burst out laughing. "That … Oh, God, that was corny," Cas said between fits of giggles. 

"I know," Dean said unrepentantly, "but I meant it." His voice dropped to a seductive murmur that sent shivers of anticipation down Cas's spine. "As soon as I get you alone, I'm gonna show you just how grateful I am that you did this for me. Just how much I love you." He angled his head to bring their lips together, and for a few moments they might as well have been alone already for all the notice they took of anyone else. 

Then Jodi called that the food was ready and anyone who wanted to eat had better get their butt in the dining room. "That means you, Dean Winchester."

Dean took his tongue out of Cas's mouth and called back, "Yes, Mom." Then he took Cas's hand firmly in his and led him into the dining room, both of them still pink cheeked and with kiss swollen lips, and no one batted an eye. 

Sitting at that table with Dean's hand resting comfortably on his knee, passing burgers and salads back and forth, joining in the conversation when his mouth wasn't full of delicious homemade food, Cas didn't feel at all out of place. He felt like he had come home. 


	18. Chapter 18

Most people would be alarmed to come home and see a police car in their driveway. Dean just thought, _Oh, Jodi's here,_ and parked the Impala at the curb so he wasn't blocking her in. But when he walked through the door and saw Jess in tears on the couch, Sam with his arms around her, and Jodi rubbing her back soothingly? Yeah, _then_ he was alarmed.  
  
"No one's dead," Jodi said quickly, seeing the look on his face, "and no one's hurt. Everyone's fine." 

Dean took a moment to breathe and let his heart climb out of his stomach before asking, "So what happened?" 

"There was a fire in our new house," Sam said. He was still holding Jess tightly even though she was starting to calm down, and he looked pale and shaken. "Thankfully no one was there. We hadn't even moved any of our stuff in yet. It could have been much worse. But it's gonna take months to make the place livable again, and —"

"And the wedding is in two weeks," Dean finished for him. 

"We can't push it off," Jess said, lifting her head from Sam's shoulder and wiping her reddened eyes with the tissue Jodi offered her. "My parents already booked their flight, and I'm having a hard enough time keeping them happy as it is. If we change the date at the last minute, they might just decide not to come at all." There was rising panic in her voice.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, baby," Sam said, stroking her hair. "We're not pushing it off. We're getting married on the Fourth of July come hell or high water. I promise." He looked to Dean. "Is it okay if we stay here for a few more weeks? After the wedding there'll be more time to go look at apartments and stuff. Right now there's just too much else to do." 

"Dude, of course," Dean said without hesitation. "Mi casa, su casa. Literally. Your name is on the deed too. I couldn't legally kick you out even if I wanted to which I don't. Stay as long as you need." A small, selfish part of him was jumping for joy, but he gave it a mental kick, and it shuffled off into the corner, properly ashamed of itself. 

"Thank you," Jess said, giving him a tearful smile. "Sorry for scaring you before. I overreacted a bit. It's just this and my parents' bullshit on top of all the normal stress of making a wedding … But Sam's right. It could be worse. We should count our blessings." She snuggled deeper into Sam's arms. 

Dean noticed the way Sam clung to her like she might vanish in a puff of smoke if he let go, and he wondered if his brother was also thinking of another home gone up in flames a long time ago. His eyes wandered to the picture of Mary Winchester laughing at the camera, and he heard the ghostly whisper of a remembered voice. _"Angels are watching over you."_ Maybe she'd been right. It certainly felt like it today.

~o0o~

"You should probably just plan on moving in with me for a few weeks after the wedding." 

Dean stared at Cas across their usual table at Pam's. The fry he'd been about to slip to Grace dangled forgotten in his hand, but the dog snatched it anyway. "Are you serious?" 

"Yes." Cas swallowed the last bite of his burger and cleaned his fingers with a napkin. "Dean, they're going to be newlyweds. Much as they love you, they're gonna want their privacy."

"Yeah, but …" Dean had actually been planning to split his time between Cas's place and Bobby and Jodi's so he could give Sam and Jess space without imposing on anyone else too much. "I meant are you sure you're okay with that? There's a big difference between me spending the night a few times a week and me living there twenty four seven." 

Cas smiled indulgently. "First of all, you spend the night four or five times a week. Sometimes six. That's already nearly all the time, and if I haven't gotten tired of your company yet then I never will. And second of all …" He paused and looked down at his plate, playing with the few remaining fries. He suddenly looked as nervous as he'd been the first time he asked Dean to top him. 

"Second of all?" Dean prompted gently. His mouth was suddenly very dry, and his heart was hammering. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. 

"Dean …" Cas reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tight. "The promise I made you four months ago still stands. I won't rush you into anything you're not completely comfortable with, and I won't give you any ultimatums. I will never say, do this for me or we're over. You know that, right?"  
  
"Yeah, Cas. I know. Are you … are you asking me to move in with you permanently?"

Cas nodded but then hastened to add, "You don't have to decide right now. Take all the time you need. Maybe we could treat these next few weeks as a … a trial run?" 

"Yeah," Dean said, more than a little relieved. "Yeah, that's a good idea." His head was spinning. He needed time to process this, to figure out what he really wanted. This was too important to screw up in his usual impulsive, leap-before-you-look way. And the fact that Cas understood that without Dean needing to explain made Dean fall a little deeper in love with him although five minutes ago he would have said that was impossible. 

Pam brought over dessert without bothering to ask what they wanted — two slices of peach pie, each topped with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream. "I heard what happened," she said, touching Dean's shoulder lightly. "How's Jess holding up?" 

"She's stressed," Dean said, "but she's trying to stay positive." 

"And the wedding is still —"

"Right on schedule. 'Come hell or high water' were Sam's exact words." 

Pam grinned. "That's our boy."  
  
"Speaking of the wedding," Cas said when Pam left to take care of her other customers, "is it too late to change my mind?" 

Dean froze with a forkful of pie and ice cream halfway to his mouth. "You … you want to come?" 

"Yes, if the invitation is still open. I understand if it's too last minute." 

"No, of course you can come. What changed your mind?" 

"Well, I've already met most of your family, so first impressions are no longer an issue. And Sam and Jess have both been so nice to me. I'd like to celebrate their happiness."  
  
Dean beamed at Cas, his heart swelling with so much love it was almost painful. 

"Careful. Your ice cream is about to drip on your shirt," Cas said with a smirk. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned is "Into My Arms" by Nick Cave.

"Come here. Let me do that." Dean took the strip of white silk from Sam's shaking hands, deftly knotted it around his neck, and straightened his collar. 

They were in their old bedroom at Bobby and Jodi's house. Jess was getting ready in the big master bedroom down the hall, and Dean had strict orders not to let Sam so much as poke his head out the door until Bobby came to get them. As nervous as he was, which was very, Sam was also kind of enjoying this quiet time, just him and his big brother, here in the first place he had ever called home. 

"Lookin' good, Sammy," Dean said, reaching out to adjust the white rose in Sam's lapel. 

"You too," Sam said with a grin. "I haven't seen you in a suit since … well, ever actually. What did Cas think?"

Dean turned pink. "He, uh … he liked it." He cleared his throat and changed the subject less than smoothly. "I got something for you and Jess." 

"Dude, you didn't —"

"I know I didn't _have_ to." He took a thin envelope from his jacket pocket and practically shoved it into Sam's hand. "Just shut up and open it, will you?" 

Sam did. Considering he was a lawyer who literally got paid to translate complicated documents into normal-people-speak, it took him an embarrassingly long time to understand what he was holding. "You're … You're giving us your _house_?" 

"Yep. It was already half yours, so I just transferred my half into Jess's name. Now you don't have to worry about paying rent, and when the other place is fixed up, you can sell it or rent it out, put some money away for diapers and college funds and whatever."  
  
"But … Dean, where are _you_ gonna li—" 

"I'm moving in with Cas." Dean's mulish expression softened, and he looked almost giddy with happiness. "He asked me a couple weeks ago, and I … I gave it a lot of thought. I didn't make this decision impulsively, Sam. I swear. This … This is what I want. This is everything I've ever wanted, and I —"

Sam grabbed his brother in a crushing hug. Dean was startled, but he recovered quickly and hugged back. "I'm happy for you," Sam said. "For both of you. He's really good for you, Dean, and I'm so glad you found him and that you're happy. I love you." 

"Love you too, Sammy." Dean's voice was a little choked, but that might have been because Sam was hugging him so tight. 

~o0o~

"So when Sam first introduced me to Jess, my first thought was, 'Holy hell, this girl is so far out of my brother's league.' And I'm gay, so if _I_ can tell that she's hot, you know she is really smokin' hot." 

Cas laughed along with everyone else. Dean was clearly uncomfortable with being the center of attention, but he was powering through it like a champ, and _damn_ he looked good in a suit. _And I'm the one who gets the privilege of taking it off him later,_ Cas thought smugly. _It's gonna look even better on my …_ our _bedroom floor._

"But then I got to know her," Dean continued in a more serious tone, "and not only is she absolutely perfect for Sam, she's also the perfect addition to this family. Our family is … Well, it's weird, and hardly any of us are actually related by blood, but as Bobby likes to say, family don't end with blood. A family is a bunch of people who look out for each other, who love and accept each other unconditionally, and Jess has been doing that since day one. Not just for Sam, but for all of us." 

Dean's eyes found Cas's for a moment, and Cas knew he was included in that statement. 

Then Dean abruptly switched gears and addressed his brother directly, tuning out everyone else. "You … You're more than my kid brother, Sam. You're my best friend. You're the one who's always been there through the good times and the bad, and some of the bad times were really friggin bad, but you stood by me no matter how little I deserved it. And you're right that I have a tendency to think of this as a one way street. I'm the big brother. It's my job to look out for you, and I forget that I can also ask you for help. But the thing is, most of the time I don't even need to ask. Somehow you can just tell no matter how hard I try to hide it, and you will not leave me alone until I talk about my damn feelings." 

Sam laughed harder than anyone else, but Cas suspected that the tears glittering in his eyes weren't just tears of laughter. A few other people were also dabbing surreptitiously at their eyes, including Bobby. 

"I've been kind of dreading this day," Dean said when the laughter had died down, "because in my experience change has usually been a bad thing. But these past few months I've started to realize that even when you're already happy and you really like your life, things can still change for the better." He raised his glass. "So here's to my awesome brother and my brand new, much less annoying sister. I hope that you keep getting happier with every day you spend together. To Sam and Jess."  
  
"Sam and Jess," everyone echoed. Cas joined in the toast with water. He had enough trouble keeping his balance without adding champagne bubbles to the mix. 

Sam hugged Dean, and Jess kissed him on the cheek, and then Dean returned to his seat beside Cas. 

"That was beautiful, my love," Cas said, putting his arm around Dean's shoulders. 

"Thanks." Dean leaned into him, their heads coming to rest against each other. "God, I hate public speaking." 

"I know. But you did it anyway. For Sam. I'm so proud of you." 

The music had started up again, and couples were moving out onto the dance floor that had been set up in the middle of the yard. Jess was twirling in her husband's arms, flushed and radiant with love, and Sam was looking at her like she was the only person in the universe. Bobby and Jodi were swaying gently on the spot, gazing into each other's eyes. Charlie and her girlfriend Jo were taking turns dipping each other and giggling like children. 

"Could I persuade you to dance with me?" Cas asked tentatively, unsure if Dean would be comfortable with that in front of so many people.  
  
But Dean said without hesitation, "Hell yeah. I thought you'd never ask." 

~o0o~

The sun had long since set, and Bobby and Jodi's backyard was aglow with red, white, and blue lanterns. The soft light made Cas's eyes sparkle and gave his face an almost ethereal quality, like those old paintings of angels bathed in celestial radiance. Or maybe Dean was just tired and buzzed from the champagne and hopelessly head over heels in love with the man in his arms. 

He didn't recognize the song that was playing. It was one of those girly-indie-rock-love-ballads that Sam liked and that Dean would normally insist did not qualify as rock and barely qualified as music, but right now he was kind of into it. The singer had a rough but tuneful baritone that reminded him of Cas's voice, and Dean found himself really listening to the lyrics. 

_"I believe in love, and I know that you do too._   
_And I believe in some kind of path that we can walk down me and you._   
_So keep your candles burning. Make his journey bright and pure_   
_That he'll keep returning always and evermore_   
_Into my arms."_

"I love you," Dean whispered for Cas's ears only.  
  
"And I love you," Cas murmured back, tipping his head back to invite a kiss. 

Dean accepted the invitation. He intended to keep it PG, but he quickly gave up on that and lost himself in the taste of Cas and the talented dance of his tongue which seemed determined to map out every inch of Dean's mouth and claim it as Cas's own personal territory. When they broke apart they were both breathing heavily, and Dean had to spend several seconds mentally disassembling the Impala's engine and naming the components to calm the potentially embarrassing situation in his pants.

"Can we go home?" Cas said hoarsely. "I really want to be alone with you right now." 

Dean glanced over at Sam and Jess. They were in their own little world, completely lost in each other's eyes.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "Let's go home." He couldn't say the words without grinning like an idiot. Home. The home they now shared. He didn't think it was possible for him to be happier than he was in this moment, but he was prepared to be proved wrong.

 **the** **end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks. Honestly, I could probably keep going with this one indefinitely, it was so much fun, but I have a lot of ideas, and I decided when I started that Sam's wedding would be the end point, so I'm sticking with that. For now at least. 
> 
> Comments are love. Just sayin'. =)


End file.
